The Sound of Hidden Words
by going by me
Summary: Meredith and Derek already knew their daughter was special. They just didn't know how much. Already used to wheelchairs and walkers, they now find themselves struggling to see why she doesn't communicate as others - and to get her the help she needs.
1. Life's like an hourglass

_A/N - This is my new story. It started out as something I wrote whenever I had no inspiration for my real fics, but has transformed past recognition since the beginning. It will be ten chapters, of which this first one takes place about three years before the rest of the story. _

_While I absolutely love the fact that Meredith and Derek adopt in the series, the fact that they have not just one, but two biological children in this fic was a too big cornerstone for me to change after having written almost all my chapters. As you read on, bear in mind that any similarities with certain elements in the show actually are coincidences, since I began writing this way back. _

_If you like it, please leave me a comment. I have been working a lot with this, and I will be happy for feedback!_

Derek stood in the corner of the waiting area in the maternity ward, impatiently eyeing the posters on the notice board. Here were lists of what to do and not do to during pregnancy, where pictures of things like smoking, drinking and something he suspected should resemble a raw fish were crossed over in red. One poster stated that THE MOMMIES OF TODAY FORM THE CHILDREN OF TOMORROW. He saw sign up sheets for therapy sessions, Lamaze classes and even babysitter services, but couldn't muster enough interest to actually look into them.

He had just come downstairs, having hurried from the surgery he had performed on an older man with a bad GSW to the head and just stopped briefly to get two Styrofoam cups of coffee, one of them decaf. He wasn't sure of Meredith's schedule today, but if he knew her, she wouldn't slow down and hydrate much. Both of them would be off before seven tonight, though, and he was looking forward to spending a Friday night together with his family, since those tended to be characterized by 'where's Mommy' or 'when is Daddy getting home'.

Josie would benefit from a quiet night with them both, he hoped. He was concerned about their daughter. At three, she was still not confident enough to talk to other children without an adult there to coax and support her. Although she'd been enrolled at the hospital's daycare almost her entire life, she still hadn't got used to playing with others. The teachers repeatedly reported that Josie hid from the other kids, that she only watched their games and that she constantly needed one of the teachers to even consider participating in anything. Derek had seen the same pattern every time they had their friends over for dinner, or when Josie tagged along with one of them during hospital hours. Even Lexie or April that she'd known her whole life took a while for her to warm up to each time she met them, during which she grew quiet and clung either to him or Meredith. They had discussed this problem several times, without really coming up with an answer. He knew Meredith worried that their working hours prevented them from giving Josie the security she needed. To be honest, he was too. They were both glad for the temporary respite Meredith's maternity leave would give them, but they knew that keeping her home would never be a permanent solution. Their daughter needed to be around other children to develop socially.

Their daughter wasn't the only one who would benefit from family time. Lately, he'd had the feeling that Meredith didn't hesitate taking another shift when she could have avoided it, if he was off and could take the baby. The occasional nights they did have together tended more and more to be about calling daycare teachers, grocery shopping or scheduling the coming week. He didn't like this lack of own time with Meredith. Even though the reasons were completely different, he recognized the signs from his and Addison's marriage. He felt nowhere near the distance he'd experienced with her, but he knew they were heading down a dangerous path in letting each other slip, not taking care of what they once both had been sure of that they had.

He was slightly aware of that his left foot was tapping against the floor when he saw Meredith enter the room. Not catching his eye, she sank down in one of those steel-legged chairs with a soft cushion that looked comfortable but that really wasn't. In this stage of Meredith's pregnancy with Josie, she had been much more scared and unsure of herself than this time around, but she had also been less tired. Derek guessed the same went for him. He knew as well as she did that coming home from a hectic day at work wasn't the relaxing oasis it had been before they had Josie. Without a word, he placed the coffee cups at the small table and sat down next to her. Meredith cast him a surprised glance, then closed her eyes briefly and leaned back as best as she could on the hard-backed chair.

"I was called in to consult on a kid with a vascular malformation today," she mumbled. "I've never seen anything like it. It had taken over half of his cheek."

"You did?" he replied, partly because it sounded like an interesting case, partly out of habit. Then he sighed. He didn't want their rare moments together consist of conversations about work. "We need to talk, Meredith," he said instead.

"Is it about Josie?" Meredith asked tiredly. "I spoke to the daycare yesterday..."

"About us," Derek interrupted. "We need to talk about us."

He could feel Meredith tense next to him. "This is not the time, Derek."

He was about to protest. He hated it when she did like this; avoided important talks, pretended everything was fine. Then he thought better of it. In the midst of the turmoil their relationship had been in the beginning, he'd learned by trial and error just which discussions not to take at wrong times. He'd just been stupid to suggest something like it here; the waiting area in a ward where they were patients wasn't the right place for the discussion he wanted.

So he shrugged and sank back, and they stayed in silence. Even though it wasn't uncomfortable – and Derek felt hope linger in his chest that it wasn't – they both looked up expectantly when a nurse appeared in the doorway, calling for Dr. Grey.

They both rose, and then stood a little awkwardly, each one waiting for the other to go first. Derek gave the nurse a quick smile, a little hesitant where to go now he wasn't in charge. The nurse motioned for Meredith to follow her into an exam room and Derek sat down on one of the chairs by the wall, nodding politely at the man in the mid-thirties that was setting up the monitor for examination. Derek vaguely recognized him, but it must be from the cafeteria or maybe from Joe's, because he was sure he had never worked with him.

"Let's see, Dr. Grey," the radiologist said and smiled reassuringly at Meredith as she reappeared from behind the little curtain in the corner of the room, clad only in a hospital gown and with her hair swept back in a loose ponytail. "If you could lie down for me at the table, we'll soon have your little guy up on the screen."

Meredith returned his smile a little nervously and climbed up at the exam table as graciously as she could. She hadn't turned very pregnant yet; Derek knew she still was able to hide it underneath her scrubs and a white coat, but she was bigger than when she had been pregnant with Josie and definitely heavier than desired for that kind of gymnastics.

"You okay?" he asked, reaching forward and taking her hand in his. She nodded a little and shifted positions slightly.

"Not the most comfortable bed," she muttered and scooted a little higher up. The radiologist still fiddled with the monitor and Derek bent down to stroke his hands over her swollen belly.

"Hey there, little one," he murmured. "As soon as we've seen you, we're going to go home and let Mommy rest in a much softer bed, what do you say about that?"

Meredith smiled a little at that and then closed her eyes as the radiologist pushed her gown up over her abdomen and squirted some gel onto her skin. Derek saw that she shivered a little at the cold touch and squeezed her hand a little harder. She opened her eyes.

"Talk to me," she said. "I'm gonna lie here and pretend that I'm not lying on a damn hard table and that it's okay to relax before my next consult, but I need you to talk me through it."

Derek laughed a little. It was a sign as good as any that he found himself having missed her way of rambling when she got a little nervous.

"Do you remember the ultrasound we did with Josie?" he said to distract her. "I know you were nervous, but I think I was even more."

"No, you weren't." Meredith shot him a incredulous look. "I was a mess and you just held my hand and told me everything would be fine."

He knew she was right. Few times had he been so anxious – only at Josie's actual birth and when Meredith had had her two death scares back in her intern years – but Meredith had been terrified and somehow that had made him hold his pieces together enough to calm her down. He almost cringed a little when he remembered how he had constantly kept track of every little move the radiologist had done and every little flicker on the tiny screen. This time he had promised himself not to be such a pain in the ass again. It was actually enjoyable being in a hospital room as a patient when it had less to do with life-sustaining breathing tubes and more with the prospect of a new little person that was soon to be theirs.

This would be their second miracle baby. Josie had come to them after three miscarriages and too many tries to be counted. After the twelfth week mark, the pregnancy had been smooth even if both of them had lived in constant fear of something happening every step of it. They'd never dared to hope they would get to have that a second time. They'd never even explicitly tried for another baby, although the hope of one never had stopped lingering.

The radiologist kept up a steady stream of good-natured small-talk, retelling tales from his career and making them tell him about Josie while he moved the transducer over Meredith's abdomen and made the gel smear out evenly. The minutes ticked by and Derek had almost lost himself in thoughts, listening only with one ear to the conversation when he heard a soft, thumping sound filling the room.

"That's it," Meredith breathed. "That's the heartbeat."

The radiologist nodded, but didn't say anything and kept listening closely. Derek silently counted together with him and grinned proudly when the radiologist finally made some notes in Meredith's chart and looked up at them.

"150," he said. "It's strong, as you can hear." But the frown that had creased his brow ever since the steady beat had begun hadn't disappeared and his jovial features had been replaced with something Derek couldn't put his finger at. He glanced at Meredith. She didn't seem to have noticed anything and was tenderly stroking her belly with a slight inwardly smile on her lips.

"It's okay?" he said quietly, addressing the radiologist. "There isn't anything wrong?"

The short pause before the radiologist looked him in the eye made his world shatter. Clinging to the hope that he very well could be mistaken, he held the dizziness at bay and forced himself to sound calm in front of Meredith.

"It's okay?" he repeated and was surprised that his voice carried like he'd ordered it.

The radiologist cleared his throat. "There appears to be some kind of anomaly," he said sympathetically. "I'm gonna go find the ob-gyn and she'll take a look. Try not to worry too much."

"An anomaly," Derek repeated. "What kind of anomaly?" In the corner of his eye, he could see that Meredith had frozen in her slow, circulating motions. "Look again," he demanded. "Look again and tell us."

"I'm sorry, Dr. Shepherd," the radiologist excused himself. "This is not my area of expertise. I'll get an ob-gyn for you immediately and she'll be able to give you some answers."

Standing up, he turned off the monitor, which had been angeled so that neither Meredith nor Derek could see it from where they were sitting. The sudden silence when even the thumping wasn't there to distract them anymore seemed to fill the room entirely. The nurse that had been going in and out of the exam room for the time it had taken to set everything up came back but kept herself busy in the far corner.

"Derek," Meredith whispered. "What's wrong?"

He looked at her. Her hands were still hovering over her stomach, but she didn't wear the smile she had just a couple of minutes ago. Instead of touching her baby bump in wonder, she seemed to suddenly protect it with all of her body. A few strands from her ponytail hung loose in front of her eyes, but it didn't seem to bother her. Her eyes were focused on him.

"He wouldn't tell me," he said tight-lipped. "I don't care who he'll bring, I'm looking for myself." He picked up the transducer and reached forward to turn the monitor back on, but Meredith shook her head no before the nurse could step in and do the same.

"Don't," she said. "Wait." She bit her lip before she took a deep breath. "The heartbeat is strong," she mumbled. "It's strong. It's gonna be fine."

And Derek slowly put back the transducer and sank back down on his chair, giving in to her wish to pretend for these last minutes that everything was okay.

"Hold my hand," Meredith said in a small voice. "Like you did before."

And that's how they stayed, tightly gripping each other's hands, both of them at a loss for anything to say at all. At last, when Derek had began wondering if it was possible to lose his mind in the very same hospital where he had spent almost every day for more than seven years, a sturdy woman opened the door and stepped inside.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Lincoln," she said and smiled gently. Her hair was curly as ever Cristina Yang's but instead of raven black it was reddish blonde and her eyes were warm and blue. "Dr. Grey, the radiologist tells me your ultrasound showed some unusual activity and wanted me to take a look."

"An anomaly," Derek broke in, unable to hide the mix of bitterness and fear he knew his voice held. "He said there was an anomaly."

"Okay," Dr. Lincoln said reassuringly. "Why don't we take a look so I can see for myself?" She turned the monitor back on, but didn't immediately place the transducer on Meredith. "I know that you two are both doctors in this hospital," she said. "That doesn't mean you're able to think like doctors in a situation like this. In here, you're parents to a baby that possibly has a health problem and even though I know you would be able to take in and understand all the medical information, had it been a different situation, I'm going to speak to you as parents."

Meredith nodded and Derek hesitantly did the same. He was afraid of what this woman would be able to tell them but at the same time strangely comforted by her gentle, yet capable manner. He closed his eyes briefly, unable to focus on anything else than the low murmuring buzz from the machine, no matter how much he wanted to do just about anything than waiting desperately for the heartbeat to pick up again. At this point in their ultrasound for Josie, they had been thanking the doctor and happily clutching on to the little black and white picture of her little body curled up in a way that made her look more than a peanut than anything. That night, Meredith had called her friends and his mom and proudly announced they were having a healthy baby girl. And then he had made her dinner and they had toasted in cider over his garlic chicken – garlic had been Meredith's craving for almost the whole second trimester.

"Have you been thinking of a name for the baby?" Dr. Lincoln asked as she repeated what the radiologist had done before her, prodding the device over Meredith's abdomen to find the fetus's rhythm. This time, Meredith didn't flinch when the cold gel touched her stomach. Derek opened his mouth to point out that they actually just wanted to know what was going on with their baby. They were doctors, not inexperienced first-time parents that needed to be distracted. But to his surprise, Meredith picked up.

"We've just been calling it Bug," she told the doctor and tried to smile. Her voice was wavering slightly and her right hand, the one Derek wasn't holding, was gripping the edge of the bed so that he could see her knuckles white. "It might sound silly, but we didn't know if it was a boy or a girl and we haven't really been talking about names yet..." Her voice faded, as if she had known she was just pretending this was any other perfectly normal examination and that the talk about names and was totally irrelevant in face of what the doctor actually was here to talk to them about.

"A lot of parents do that," Dr. Lincoln smiled, and focused her attention on the monitor as the steady thumping once again grew louder. Derek reached forward to see for himself what the radiologist had found a reason to worry about, but again, Meredith held him back.

"Let her look, Derek," she mumbled and even though it was against all his instincts not to do anything at all, he took a deep breath and did as she asked him. The time Dr. Lincoln spent examining the monitor stretched out and seemed more like hours than minutes. He was a man of action, and right now, tears pricked his eyes just because of the sheer helplessness he experienced of not even being able to know what was going on.

"Do you want to know the sex of your baby?" Dr. Lincoln asked after what seemed like several hours had passed, but that in reality only must have been a few minutes.

"Please just tell us what's wrong..." Derek began, keeping his voice calm even though all he wanted to do really was screaming with impatience.

"Yes," Meredith whispered beside him. "I'd like to know... it's a girl, isn't it?"

Dr. Lincoln smiled down at her, involving Derek and nodded. "It's a girl. Dr. Grey, Dr. Shepherd, congratulations. Now," she went on before Derek could interject again, "I see that your daughter's skull has enlarged ventricles. As I am sure that you know, that indicates the possible presence of hydrocephalus." She quieted, as to let her words sink in before she said anything else.

Derek's throat suddenly felt dry but he forgot to swallow as the possibilities of their daughter's condition swept over him like a wave.

"Are you sure?" he demanded. As it usually did when he was upset and reacted without thinking first, it came out sharper than he had intended. "What's the LVH/HW ratio? Can you determine the site of fluid obstruction?"

"Derek, don't," Meredith said. Her voice was on the verge of tears, but strong all the same. "Let her finish."

"Sorry," Derek muttered sheepishly, once again forcing himself to calm down.

Dr. Lincoln nodded gently at him. "Don't worry, Dr. Shepherd. At this moment all I can determine is that the ventricles are larger than they should be, given the gestational age. We'll make sure to take this further. I'll arrange for a pediatric neurosurgeon to come talk to you and take all the tests necessary to confirm the suspicion."

Derek took a deep breath, feeling the bile rise in his throat. Two hours ago, the prospect of seeing their new baby had been the subject of the happy conversation he'd had with Josie at his lunch break. He looked at Meredith. She looked unusually pale. She was biting her lip in that manner that was so typically her and had began plucking with the sheet to still her hands.

"Mer," Derek said, trying to not let his worry seep through his voice. "We... I..." He wanted to tell her they would be fine. They were both surgeons. They could make this child healthy. There just must be a way. But he choked on his words, unable to formulate anything that would make her actually believe it.

"May I suggest that you both take the rest of the day off," Dr. Lincoln said gently. "I'll schedule an appointment with one of our pediatric neurosurgeons and a perinatologist as fast as possible. They will perform further tests and help you decide the course of action." She rose and was on her way of turning off the monitor when she seemed to remember something. "That's right," she said. "Would you like me to print the ultrasound picture for you?"

Derek stared at her. Rationally, he knew it was a routine question; probably one parents were looking most forward to during their visits and certainly one they had been asked during their textbook pregnancy with Josie. He still had her picture. It had decorated his office until she had been born and he had some of her as a real person and he knew exactly where he had tucked it away. He didn't know what felt worse now; the fact that the question had only just been remembered by the doctor, or that it had been forgotten at all by himself.

"Of course," he said gruffly before Meredith could indicate otherwise, but she merely nodded and even managed a little smile.

"Okay," Dr. Lincoln said with sympathy. "I'll go print it for you, be back in a couple of minutes. If you feel the need to stay longer, we have a quiet room down the corridor. I can arrange for someone to come talk to you if you prefer."

Without looking at her, Derek waved dismissively in her general direction. "We'll be fine," he mumbled.

As soon as the door had closed behind the doctor, Meredith looked at Derek, fear etched in the lines around her mouth. "What do we do?" she pleaded.

He'd seen eyes like hers before. In fact, people seemed to give him them all the time; his sisters when they were little and he suddenly had become the only man in the family; his patients whenever he stood bent over their beds with their test results; Meredith endless times when Josie was an infant and she didn't consider herself capable enough to decide her matters. It was sometimes powerful to know that people trusted you to know the answers. Today, he hated it.

He took a wavering breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He would have to put aside the sight of the large skull on the monitor, so much resembling the scans that came from patients but that didn't. He must forget it belonged to his little one and look at it as he would, had she been a patient. Hydrocephalus could come connected with so many malformations. God know he was familiar with that after having operated again and again on children and adults during the years. He knew that in some cases, if the ventricular dilation was mild, it could resolve itself by the third trimester, but even if his ob-gyn rotation in his intern years had been a long time ago, he knew that those cases were rare.

"Derek?"

He looked at his wife. She was a surgeon just like him. Even though the helplessness of the moment threatened to paralyze them both, not doing anything wasn't on the table. She looked back at him, expectantly, and he realized they needed to take action, no matter how much he just wanted to make his daughter better by wishing hard enough or kissing the belly a thousand times.

"There's... " he stammered, suddenly feeling as if he was an intern again and unprepared asked to rattle off the common causes of whatever condition the patient lying on the table in front of them had. "Um. There's... It could be..." He took a deep breath. "A cyst. A tumor. Aqueductal stenosis."

"Myelomeningocele. Chiari malformation. Dandy Walker syndrome," Meredith filled in, as if the routine of recalling medical facts cramped in late nights in student dorms helped her regain some of her composure.

They were still going over the possible causes – both of them knew that the reason behind hydrocephalus was important to discover given the impact it would have on further treatment and prognosis – when Dr. Lincoln stepped back into the room with them. Derek didn't know if it was in spite of them both working with these conditions on a regular basis, or because of it, that the thought that their child may have brain damage was so terrifying.

"Here's for you," the doctor said with warmth in her voice and gave Meredith the proof that their baby really was inside of her, enlarged skull or not, sealed in an envelope with Seattle Grace's logo. "I spoke to the pediatric neurosurgeon just now. He offered to see you later this afternoon, if you don't mind waiting a couple of hours."

Derek met her gaze and thanked her silently. He knew that specialists had herds of patients waiting outside their doors and signing up for their waiting lists. He wasn't sure if the neurosurgeon's effort to squeeze them in was due to something Dr. Lincoln had said or if it simply was a favor to one of his own. But he didn't care.

"Thank you," he said hoarsely. "We'll take it."

He'd taken her to his office once Dr. Lincoln had run out of things to say. She'd walked slowly and carefully and sunk down in his couch as soon as he'd unlocked the door.

"Do you feel any pain?" he asked, concerned over her deliberate motions. She didn't reply at first, just shook her head.

"What if her spinal cord is exposed?" she said at last, voice thick with tears that she yet had to shed. "I just keep imagine that every move I make could make her bump it and cause more damage."

Derek didn't know what to say to comfort her. She knew as well as he did that wasn't how things worked and he wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the words, just to be absolutely sure she wasn't wrong about them, or if she didn't want it written over her face when she already knew it.

"Derek?" she asked in a small voice before he could come up with something to say. "There's nothing I want more than Josie in this moment. But..." she looked down as if she were ashamed. "Right now, I don't think I would be a very good mommy. I don't want her to see me this upset."

Derek nodded. "Do you want me to page Lexie? Get her to take her for the night?"

"I think she has the day off," Meredith mumbled.

"I'll call her then?"

When Meredith's nod came, hesitant and relieved at the same time, he fumbled for his phone, grateful that there was something he could do to control at least some of the spiraling chain of events the one utterance had started. Scrolling down his phone book, he tried her home number first and swallowed past the lump in his throat when she answered.

"Lexie, it's Derek," he said, spilling no time on unnecessary small-talk. "Is there any possibility you could watch Josie for us tonight?"

If Lexie was surprised over his sudden request, she didn't let it show. "Um, sure," she replied. "What time? Do you have to work late?"

Derek took a deep breath, fighting the feeling of unreality that washed over him and dreading that what he said next would make everything real, like it actually was happening and not just in his absolute worst nightmares, the ones Meredith had to wake him up from by shaking him forcefully.

"There's something wrong with the baby," he mustered, not caring that his voice held a stifled sob. "We're getting another ultrasound and I don't know what happens next."

"Oh," Lexie breathed. "Derek, I... I'll be right there. I'll pick up Josie and take her to my place. We'll be fine. She can stay the night if you need her to."

Lexie was fast. Within half an hour, there was a light knock on his office door. Derek had spent that time frantically researching the pediatric neurosurgeons on the staff and then proceeded to widen his area to the rest of the US, not content with any less than the best. Meredith had declined all his attempts to see to her and refused to lie down. After staring into space for so long that Derek had been considering force-feeding her even though she insisted she couldn't eat anything, she'd finally reached for a banana from the fruit bowl he kept on the bottom shelf for those times lunch wasn't an option and started suturing it.

"I need to do something," she'd said quietly as he'd stared at her fast fingers. "It helps me think."

He took Lexie to the daycare, feeling bad for leaving Meredith alone, but knowing that Lexie's worry that Josie wouldn't want to come with her was legitimate. When they stood outside the doors where Josie had spent pretty much her whole childhood, he had to collect himself for a moment before stepping inside. The realization that his second child might not be able to do the same because of any special needs she might have struck him in the same way an unexpected pinch in the arm would and he didn't want Josie to pick up on it.

"Dr. Shepherd," Ellen, a young and enthusiastic teacher that he knew Josie liked, nodded at him. "Are you here to pick up Josie? You can go right in. I think she's in the play room."

Derek felt a pang in his chest as he entered the large, colorful area where the children usually gathered. There were seven or eight kids in there. Some of them were running around, a few were sitting at a little table coloring pictures and three little girls were engaged in a board game. Josie was sitting in the far left corner, whispering things in the ears of her dark pink pig whose color had faded considerably after four years in her care. She looked up hastily when he walked over the floor, noticable cautious before she regcognized him and jumped up and wrapped her arms around him.

"Daddy," she sighed against his neck as he carried her through the room and out in the hall, where Lexie had remained standing. "Are we going home?"

Derek set her down. "Lexie's gonna take you home today," he told her, putting on a happy voice and trying to make it sound like an adventure. "Mommy and Daddy have to stay at the hospital tonight."

Josie stared at him, her lower lip already starting to tremble dangerously. "I want to go with you," she murmured.

"But Daddy isn't going home," Derek said, sitting down at the floor so that he came eye to eye with his daughter. He hated doing this to her. He knew that her unwillingness wouldn't just disappear once she got alone with Lexie. Only a couple of hours ago, he'd been counting on a quiet night together, a chance for her to get some time with them both in an environment she felt safe in.

"We're going to do a lot of fun stuff," Lexie promised and smiled widely. If Derek hadn't known about the sadness in her eyes, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell. "You have to tell me what you like to do best."

Josie stared blankly at her, her hand searching for Derek's, but at last settling for clutching hard at his sleeve. "Daddy," she whimpered, reaching for him to lift her again, her voice breaking on the last syllable. "No, Daddy."

Derek reached forward and gripped her under her armpits, lifting her onto his lap but didn't let her bury her head in the nape of his neck. Leaning her backwards against his chest so that they weren't facing each other, he slowly stroke her over the hair, forcing himself to remember that right now, Josie needed him as much as Meredith did.

"Have you done anything in daycare today that you would like to take home?" he asked, hoping that steering the conversation to focus on the more practical matters would help.

"No," Josie answered, swallowing a sob and trying to turn around to see him, like she wasn't sure of what had been settled.

"I think you should go get your things then," Derek said gently, tossing aside a dark curl that had strayed away from her face. "Lexie is gonna take good care of you. And then tomorrow, you know what will happen then?"

"What?" she said, although her voice still wavered.

"Both me and Mommy will be home all day and you can be with us. Is there anything special you want to do then? See a movie?"

She took a big, hiccupping breath. "I want to be with you now," she whined. "We can see a movie?"

"Yes, but not until tomorrow. I bet Lexie will watch a movie with you tonight, though. And she's a really good baker; maybe you can help her make some cupcakes?"

"No, Daddy," Josie choked out, rubbing her hand over her face.

"Josie, stop it, please..." Derek turned her around in his lap and carefully ran his fingers over her cheeks that were red and almost blotchy from tears. "What's going on? I know you can do this. Can you tell Daddy what's hard?"

Josie just shook her head. Her body trembled under Derek's hands and he sighed. He knew she soon would reach a state where she would be almost impossible to talk to and quickly made up his mind. He hadn't planned on telling her anything about the baby before they knew anything definitely and frankly, he didn't really want to. He didn't see the point in making her upset or confuse her when they didn't know what it would be like. He'd have liked to discuss with Meredith the best way to prepare her. But years of dealing with Josie told him that it would be the only thing that would help her see why it was important that she went with Lexie.

"Josie," he said seriously. "Could you listen to Daddy for a little bit?" Josie quieted when his voice deepened a little and he felt grateful that she wasn't too upset yet to recognize the voice he used for times when it was important she knew he was serious.

She nodded silently, blinking away the wet in her eye that Derek knew was well on its way.

"You know Mommy has a baby in her tummy?" he began. When she nodded confirmatory, he took a breath and continued. "We were looking at the baby today. A doctor used a special camera to look inside Mommy's belly and you know what? She could see that it was a girl." Derek smiled. "You're gonna have a little sister."

"I can play with her?" Josie asked, a little to Derek's surprise. Her interest in playing with other children had up to now been almost nonexistent.

"Well, she'll be very little when she comes out. But when she gets bigger, you can."

Josie nodded seriously. "I can take care of her when she's little."

"I bet you can," Derek said. "Mommy and Daddy could sure need your help." He paused and hesitated briefly. "When the doctor looked at the baby in her camera, she also saw that they baby is sick."

"Has she got a fever?" Josie asked, pursuing her lips.

"No, it's not like she's got a fever," Derek replied.

"Has she got a tummy ache?"

"No, honey, it's not like that. You know how you just stay home with me or Mommy when you get a fever? Your sister has a sickness that the doctors have to help her with."

"You're a doctor and Mommy is a doctor too," Josie pointed out. "You can help her."

"I don't think so, honey," Derek said sadly. "We're not the baby's doctors so we have to find another doctor that will do it. But Mommy is sad that the baby is sick, and she has to take more pictures so the doctors will know better how to help the baby. And then Mommy needs to rest a little. And that's why you're going to go home with Lexie today."

Josie looked uncertain. "I can make Mommy feel better," she tried hopefully. "I can hug her. She feels better when I hug her."

"I know she does," Derek agreed. "But you know how sometimes, when you have bad feelings inside you, it feels better after you've cried? Or sometimes you want to scream. I think Mommy needs to do that, and she doesn't want you to see it. You will see her tomorrow, and then she will feel a little better."

"I scream when I'm angry," Josie said and looked at him. "Is Mommy angry at the baby?"

"No," Derek said immediately. "Nobody is angry at the baby. It's not her fault she's sick. Mommy is just sad that she has to be." He studied her daughter to gauge her reaction. "Do you think you could be good for me and Mommy and go with Lexie tonight?"

She hesitated, looking at Lexie and then quickly at Derek again. Everything about her told him she really didn't want to, but she had put it past her the desperate fear that she expressed minutes ago and seemed to actually consider it.

"You know what?" Lexie said, catching the moment. "I think you're going to be such a great big sister. She is gonna need someone when she gets older and I think you might just be perfect. She will be so lucky she has you. What do you say we make a list of good baby names for Mommy that you can show her tomorrow? Maybe you get to decide what the baby's name's gonna be."

Josie wriggled a little in Derek's lap, studying Lexie, clearly contemplating this possibility. She bit her lip, a trait she had inherited from Meredith rather than Derek. "Could I, Daddy?" she asked, as if she wasn't sure Lexie had the rights to decide something like that.

"Well, let's see what names you come up with before promising anything," Derek said and winked at her. "But I'm sure Mommy will be very glad you made her a list."

"Don't forget the cookies," Lexie interjected. "Your mommy loves to eat cookies, but she's not very good at making them. I bet she would be happy if you brought cookies you made yourself when you see her tomorrow. I know you're very good at making cookies."

"What do you think, Jo?" Derek asked, trying not to press her but feeling the need to get back to Meredith and check on her.

She swallowed and he knew she was trying to do as he told her, but was afraid of really taking the leap. "I want to go home," she whispered.

"Hey Josie," Lexie said, kneeling in front of the child. "What do you say you and I go to your house instead of mine? Would that make you feel better?" She looked up at Derek, raising her eyebrows in an unspoken question. "If you guys want to be alone tonight, you can have my key," she said quietly. "Maybe she'll feel better in her own environment."

Derek looked at Josie, who reluctantly jerked her head in a slow nod. "Okay." He was willing to agree to pretty much everything by now. "Lexie will take you home, sweetie."

Josie hesitated briefly and nodded again. "Daddy," she sighed, her voice breaking again, putting her head on his shoulder and her arms around his neck.

"I know," Derek responded, circling his hands on her back in soothing motions, trying to mediate that he knew this was scary for her. "I know," he said again, looking up at Lexie, who nodded, ready to take over. He sat Josie down, smiling at her. "May Daddy have a kiss? Like the ones you give me in the mornings?"

To his relief, Josie didn't struggle this time, but merely leaned forward and touched his cheek with her soft lips, then resignedly let herself free and obediently began stuffing her extra clothes into her backpack and holding it for Lexie to take.

Derek sighed inwardly, standing up and brushing the faint hint of dust from his dress pants. Opening the door to the daycare, he blew Josie one last kiss.

"I see you in the morning," he said, carefully making his voice sound like this was any morning he left her for work or any night he tucked her in and not making this an even more emotional goodbye than it had already dragged out to be.

"Ok," Josie merely said, reaching for the left of the little red shoes Meredith had gotten her on a Gap sale earlier that spring and he slipped out of the door, grateful that Lexie seemed to have things under control.

One hour and seventeen minutes later, he found himself staring out of the window in an abandoned hallway on the fifth floor. It was a clear night, even if he could tell that rain was in the air, as always in Seattle. Winter had been unusually mild this year and the trees' branches weren't weighed down with snow anymore and people no longer wore heavy coats. The street outside the hospital was not empty. People hurried down it to get home from an early shift, to not stretch some deadline, or to get to the grocery store in time to make tonight's dinner.

"Excuse me, Dr. Shepherd," somebody said behind Derek's back and he turned immediately, his nerves on the surface. The day shift nurse, whom he no doubt had worked with endless times but couldn't for his life remember the name of, smiled gently. "You look tired. Why don't you go and sit down in..."

"Thanks, but we'll be in any minute now," Derek interrupted, not having the energy to do anything resembling politeness other than nod to acknowledge her concern. Tired was probably the less offensive euphemism anyone could come up with. It was more like exhausted didn't even begin to cover it now that the adrenaline rush had worn off and he could do nothing but wait.

The pediatric neurosurgeon had hasted past him just a couple of minutes ago and introduced himself as Dr. Thomas. He'd assured Derek that he'd be seeing them as soon as they had set up their equipment and caught up with Meredith's chart. The perinatologist that had accompanied him was right now in the exam room closest to where he was standing, preparing what felt like endless tests when the wife and child were your own – but that in reality Derek could count on his hands and knew by heart. Being the head of neurosurgery had its perks, but the downside was that he knew the drill. He knew the tests, the possible results and their consequences. And right now, he'd rather not.

They had moved from the quiet eeriness of his office half an hour ago in some kind of belief that it would somehow make the doctor page them earlier and figuring that if nothing else, they could just as well wait there as anywhere. After fifteen minutes of sitting down on uncomfortable wooden chairs, watching women of various ages stream in and out with either small, elf-like infants cradled at their chest or with bellies that looked like they would explode any minute, Meredith had left with the excuse that she wanted to drink some water before the examination. He kept watch over the door into which she'd disappeared and tried to will her to come through it before the doctor would open his.

As she did, he noticed how the look in her eyes matched the mix of fear, hope and anticipation that was jumbling around inside him. She had wetted her hair a little and swept it back in a more tight ponytail than before and she had a little more color in her face than that faint shade he hated and that she'd been wearing earlier.

He nodded at the door. "Any minute now."

Her response was a deep breath. She took his hand and threaded her fingers through his but she didn't say anything, just bit her lip the way Josie had done when trying to decide whether going with Lexie would be dangerous or not.

When the door behind them was opened and a distinguished, gray-haired nurse called their names, Derek stood up, not letting Meredith's fingers go. He swallowed and tried to suppress the little ball of pain that was doing gymnastics in his stomach, multiplying itself with an amazing speed.

"We can do this, Derek," Meredith whispered, seeming to focus on his discomfort rather than her own. "Right?"

He closed his eyes briefly, doing his best not to make any assumptions about the what obstacles his daughter would face in the future and to just concentrate on how to deal with whatever verdict would fall upon them in just a matter of minutes.

"Right," he replied hoarsely. "We'll do it."


	2. I wish I could lay down beside you

_A/N – Time for the second chapter! Thank you so much for the reviews, I really appreciate them! In this chapter, it's four years later and Meredith and Derek have settled into everyday life with their daughters. It provides pretty much background on those four years that have passed, but I've tried to balance it up a little with other stuff too. I'd love to hear what you thought afterwards. Happy reading!_

The day was finally coming to an end.

Meredith tried to will herself into getting up and making ready. The faster she got going, the faster she would be home in her own bed. Having just sunk down in the empty attendings' lounge, though, it was all she could do not to let her head slump forward and rest in her hands. Getting through a regular shift after pulling an unexpected night on-call wasn't as easy as it had been as an intern, though she at the time had bitched about the lack of sleep to Cristina. She had known nothing.

Getting up, she had to ignore the pain in her back that came with standing over the operating table for hours on end. For the seven year old that had come in earlier in the day after having gotten thrown off a horse, it hadn't been enough with a bad concussion. The MRI scans had revealed a tumor the size of a walnut and though she hadn't woken up yet, Meredith could just hope she was recovering well from the removal. She hadn't minded a little sleep herself after the six hours the procedure had taken.

Changing into a pair of dark jeans, she briefly played with the thought that by the time she got home, Derek would have gotten the girls in bed already, which would let her crash on the couch and simply close her eyes. She'd been paged three times during the night, all with causalities that had kept her busy for quite a while and for each time she'd woken up, she'd been more tired than before she fell asleep. As she dragged herself up before rounds, her throat had hurt and during the course of the day, a deep cough had rooted itself in her chest.

Loosening her elastic from her ponytail and hastily brushing through her hair, she tried to ignore how the years had even more made her resemble her mother. The comparisons that people had drawn already in her first year had never really subsided. Choosing pediatric neurosurgery instead of following her mother's path in general surgery had allowed her to make herself a name of her own, but since she'd kept her maiden name even though she and Derek had made their post it note wedding legal, she didn't really fool anyone who knew about Ellis.

She wondered, like many times before, if her daughters in the middle of their twenties would come to the conclusion that they looked just like Mom or Dad.

She'd longed for her second pregnancy ever since the bloody remnants of her first trickled down her legs. Although she knew Derek had waited for years to finally become a father, he never let show his frustration over not being able to recreate what had seemed so easy the first time around. After the first intense period of trying so hard to keep another baby, almost crushed from the constant letdowns, she'd told herself she wanted to finish her residency anyway, with the benefits of knowing where she would be doing her fellowship and working more stable hours when the child came. The thoughts that her own childhood would be haunting her bad enough to abstain from having her own children seemed more and more ridiculous. If she was blessed with a child, it would be loved, whether it had all the split ends or suicidal tendencies in the world.

Changing out of her scrub top and into a white shirt, she let her thoughts go back to that rainy June night when the stick turned blue. With more than one year of her residency to go, after a couple of weeks fighting the slow realization as well as the constant nausea, she had had exactly thirty-two weeks to try figuring out how to balance the responsibility for a child with keeping her career alive and healthy. And although she was overwhelmed with joy (and paralyzed by fear that also this child would slip out of her grip), she was surprised that the fear of repeating her mother's mistakes still lingered in the back of her mind.

Josie had been an easy baby and Derek had done everything in his power to make the burden light for her, but those years hadn't exactly been a blissful quiet period of her life, with nights even more lacking of sleep than they would have with what felt like endless on-call duty as the only source.

Slowly pulling a red sweater over her head, she grabbed her purse and her coat and walked the corridors with heavy steps. If their shifts happened to match, Derek used to wait for her at the coffee cart in the main entrance, but today she hadn't seen him all day and since he hadn't called her with a change of plans, she knew he had left already.

She couldn't have wished for a better father to her children. He was such a natural and both girls adored him. Meredith had been jealous on his instincts and seemingly uncomplicated attitude to parenting. Being a mother had scared the hell out of her the first years. Even as she grew more secure in her motherhood, the fear of giving her children her own upbringing was somehow always secretly present. During Josie's early years, she'd been doing everything she could not to, in spite of all the challenges working under some of the best pediatric neurosurgeons came with. She hated to admit it, but she'd found herself understanding more and more of what it must have been like for her mother. You promise to pick up Josie at daycare a little early to go Christmas shopping? Bam, a bus driver loses control on the slippery roads and you have eight seriously injured children coming into the E.R. needing surgery. You promise to bake cupcakes for parents' day at kindergarten? Swoosh, the kid in PICU you've had on the table all day shows signs of a new bleed and needs to be opened up. There was nothing she could do at these times, except desperately calling Derek and making sure he at least would be able to pick up the baby that night.

The street lamps were the only things that lit the parking lot and she squinted to make out where she had left the car the previous morning. She nodded at a couple of night shift nurses on their way into the building and pressed the unlock button on the key before climbing into the Jeep, finally spotting it at the rear end in the left row. Even though they'd purchased a car that would fit their needs as a family, they'd kept her old one. She guessed it wouldn't have been impossible to get around with only one car, but she couldn't quite imagine how they would work that out. She adjusted the driver's seat slightly. She usually had to fiddle with the seat, never seeming to find a perfect position that would fit her once and for all, something Derek used to tease her about.

When they got married, Meredith had thought – and for what she knew, so had Derek – that they were in a good place. They talked to each other, both when things felt rough and when they were good. She made conscious efforts to share even the dark things, and with time, they got both fewer and smaller and easier to air. The years when Josie still was an only child, Meredith had struggled with keeping up with all things new; her last years as a resident, the increasing amount of difficult surgeries, and the incredibly overwhelming task of keeping Josie alive and happy, not to mention raising her and giving her actual values and meaning in life.

Derek and she had not surprisingly gotten less and less time for each other, but she had always thought that they had managed to keep their spark, both in spite of having a toddler and thanks to the love they shared for her. She didn't know exactly when they had transitioned from husband and wife into family partners and parenting team. Maybe there was no specific moment to point out; the days of shift work, 'who takes the baby', 'I'll be home late' and 'don't wait for me's may have just passed by mercilessly without them really noticing. She should probably have realized that stolen moments at bedtime when all they really wanted was to get a night's sleep – having rationalized the 'good' a long time ago – wouldn't be enough to keep the relationship alive. She guessed the nagging feeling of constant bad conscience of not being enough for either her child, her husband or her work probably didn't help either.

She remembered having lunch with Alex at some point during this time. It was one of those days it really seemed to be all the time. Josie had been clingy and refusing to go to daycare at breakfast, something she and Derek had had a small argument about before eventually deciding they couldn't let her stay at home every time that happened (the fact that she'd had to pick up a hysterical girl, clutching hard at the nape of the apologetically day care teacher in the middle of her lunch break hadn't made anything better). 'It's not bad', she'd told Alex. 'But it's nothing at all, really'. And while she'd said those words, she allowed herself to see how true they were. Somewhere along the way, they had stopped trying.

She cast a glance at the car's digital clock while maneuvering through the evening traffic towards the suburb where they'd finally decided to settle some three years ago. It was past eight; with a little luck would both girls be ready for bed and all she'd have to do was kiss them good night. She drew a shallow breath to stifle the cough she felt was on its way and hoped a full-blown cold wasn't gaining ground.

After a lot of indecisiveness and several offers, she'd finally accepted to do her fellowship at Seattle Grace. The thought that if she later would become an attending here, she would have spent even more of her career here than the Chief was unnerving. She had hardly began settling into her third year as a fellow when the familiar feeling of unnatural tiredness and vague uneasiness began creeping upon her.

At first, the realization had startled her. She had secretly hoped for another child, but never dared to wish for one now that they had been blessed with one after all their struggles. Still, she hadn't even been sure how to be a good mother to one child. Her daughter came with so much joy – being greeted by 'You're my bestest mommy' or having Josie falling asleep next to her with hair damp after her bath and small hands tightly gripping her fingers were moment Meredith savored and never stopped amaze over. But every step of her daughter's way of becoming an own person was painted with doubt from her side. Would another child be different? And would this pregnancy be one of the ones to stick, or would they once again find themselves wallow in blood and pain a couple of weeks in?

She had almost been afraid to tell Derek – their days already seemed a lot shorter, always full with places to be, shifts to take and plans to make for the following weeks to work – but she had been a little ashamed over being surprised of how happy he got. She remembered thinking that another baby would slow things down a bit, make them both get more together time, finding their way back to each other and making Josie more secure.

They had never really succeeded in that, she concluded, the usual vague feeling of worry creeping upon her when she thought of her older daughter. Josie was fine as long as she was at home, or spending time only with her family but even if she no longer refused to leave Meredith or Derek's side when they had people over for dinner, she certainly wasn't looking forward to it. School was a place where she went just to sit through her classes – she liked the work but did everything in her power to avoid recess or oral presentations. Pulling into their driveway next to their SUV, she pushed aside the concerns for Josie, which after all times she and Derek had mulled over it felt as worn and old as the ones for her little sister.

Her eighteenth week ultrasound had been meant a quick meeting, making sure everything was alright and then heading back to the O.R after grabbing a sandwich in the cafeteria, yet it had turned their worlds upside down. The following months had not been easy. The doctors told them that because the cerebellum was pulled back into the top of the baby's spinal column, they couldn't see it. Even though they couldn't quite confirm it, they were also convinced that the spinal column didn't close properly, and further tests had confirmed what Derek and Meredith had instantly feared; the baby would be born at least to some extent paralyzed. For some time they had clung to the hope that the doctors would be mistaken, or that it could be reversed. Then they had been wishing for the damage not to be so severe. But in neither case, their prayers had been answered.

After a number of discussions that always left them at the same indecisive point they had finally agreed on having the fetal surgery that, if successful, could positively affect the outcome of the injury and decrease the need for surgery right after birth. Like all procedures, it was light years easier to recommend it to a patient than accept for themselves that it came with risks for both mother and baby. The surgery had reversed the Chiari malformation the displaced cerebellum had been a sign of and they had been relieved that their child would not need to endure the headaches and the number of other symptoms that came with it. The cover of the spinal cord had protected it from further damage but it hadn't helped with the paralysis.

Meredith shut the front door behind her and groaned irritably as she had to move Jennie's crutches out of her way for what felt like the tenth time only this week. She could hear someone move around in the kitchen, but from the lack of any significant noise, she assumed the children were upstairs. She crooked her coat on a hook and dumped her shoulder bag on the chair in the corner. Usually it was loaded with things like scarves, shirts or books, but someone – probably Derek – have cleaned it up since last time she'd tried to dump something there. Silently grateful that the living room was empty, she sank down on the couch, kicking off her shoes in the process and closed her eyes.

To adjust to the new prospect of their future had taken some time for both her and Derek. At first, all their focus had been on their unborn baby, making sure they did everything they possibly could to prepare for her arrival. Between researching insurance options, informing everybody around them and keeping up with frequent ultrasounds in the midst of their regular lives, Meredith didn't think much of anything else than getting through her days. But the initial adrenaline it meant to fight for what their daughter would be entitled to wore off after a while, and the tension and anxiety she was careful not to show anyone began to catch up with her. No matter when she tried, she had a hard time getting the sleep she needed more than ever.

She and Derek had different ways of mourning the loss of the healthy baby they had been expecting. Many were the times when Meredith had wanted to – and sometimes, when particularly exhausted, actually had – burst into tears and fly into a rage from frustration over the gap between what could have been and what would be. The uncertainty of how things would be for their baby and of all the obstacles possibly coming her way made Meredith sleepless at nights. She secretly also nursed the guilt she knew Derek felt, even though they had their origin in completely different reasons. He hadn't mentioned it more than once, but she could tell the blame he put on himself for not realizing quicker, coming up with a miracle treatment plan or simply being the superhero he used to be. She on the other hand couldn't help but worry that she'd done something wrong even thought she rationally knew there were no known triggers proven to cause spina bifida.

"Mer," Derek called from the kitchen. "Is that you?"

The running water that had hummed quietly was turned off and when she opened her eyes the slightest, she saw him appear in the doorway, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

"Hey," he said. "There's chicken casserole in the fridge, but we already ate. The girls are ready to go to bed but they wanted to wait for you, so they're not sleeping yet."

"Thanks," she murmured, too tired to look at him. She heard his steps over the floor and then felt the couch shift when he sat down next to her.

"You ok?"

"I think I could sleep for a week," she mumbled, hearing herself how raspy her voice came out.

"You don't sound too good," Derek said gently.

"I'm fine."

"M-hm," Derek said unconvinced. "I think you should be in bed."

"With you?" Meredith said, looking hopefully at him. "Or some tequila to stash my headache?"

Derek chuckled. "Rather with a cup of tea and an aspirin. Come on, I'll take you up so you can see the girls first."

They both tried to keep up with their lives as normally as they could. Meredith was surprised to find that she more times than ever before missed a mother, even though the only one she had known had never been in a similar situation and surely wouldn't have come with any constructive advice. It felt bitter to admit even to herself that the sorrow she did everything to repress insisted on popping up its ugly head more and more frequently. Even though she thought she'd been pretty successful in hiding it, she should have known that it was nothing worth trying to fool Bailey. She had stepped in as the rock she didn't think she needed and been the one to act like the mother she never had. She was also the one to make her see that Derek's barely suppressed anger, that Meredith had been too wrapped up in her own to have the energy to call him out on, was his way of doing something with his own feelings of inadequateness.

The fear that Meredith didn't dare to talk about, that she didn't even want to acknowledge to herself, was that she and Derek would not recover from this. She constantly tried to push back the thought of them continuing the road she'd felt them walking for a couple of years now and ultimately being one of those couples that split up from the strain of a sick child. She didn't want to give up on them, but she could feel the old defense mechanisms intensifying; she drew inwards, pretended to be fine and turned into the limited amount of work she was allowed to do to get her mind off things.

She could only helplessly watch Derek do pretty much the same thing. Luckily, their friends at the hospital refused to let them give each other up. Just like Mark took Derek out for beers whether Derek wanted it or not, Lexie, Alex and April, the only residents from her year still in Seattle, started to come over regularly. They just claimed to keep Meredith company those nights Derek worked, and most of the times they didn't push the subject but talked about things like whether or not Debbie would retire this year.

If her friends had been there for her and helped her through the little things and the everyday burdens, Dr. Wyatt had been the one to take on the rest. Though Meredith had been the one initiating the sessions last time she'd needed them, she hadn't had a thought of it this time. Neither had Derek. It had been Bailey that had made both her and Derek if not see why it was necessary, so managed to get their asses there anyway. And for the second time, Meredith had gotten to experience that the solution she for so long had despised and always stayed away from actually worked. It had been a painfully slow process where both she and Derek thought they did their best to share, but where they actually didn't say much at all, at least nothing that made them progress.

Dr. Wyatt had patiently guided them through those subjects they both instinctively avoided and to Meredith's surprise, she too had seen that it wasn't just something that had originated from the situation with their baby's condition. Carefully, they had been tracing backwards, choosing new paths in important crossroads and step-by-step untied the knots in the past. And by letting themselves mourn, not just separately and in secret but together, they had slowly found each other again.

"Everything went ok at the doctor's?" Meredith asked as she followed Derek into the inner part of the house. "No problems with the new braces?"

"She was a champ," Derek assured her, bending down to pick up a children's book that blocked the step built to bridge the original house from the addition. "She has been wearing them for a couple of hours tonight, but I noticed her skin was a little red so she might have to get used to them a little bit at a time."

"Ok," Meredith nodded. "She did that last time."

"Yeah, I think it'll be fine," Derek agreed. "But actually, she's been a little fretful ever since. Irritated, maybe, about small things. She seemed pretty tired as I helped her getting ready for bed as well."

"Ok," Meredith said, frowning a little. "Maybe the doctor's visit worn her out?"

"Maybe," Derek shrugged. "She'll probably be her usual sunshiny self tomorrow."

"I hope so," Meredith replied. "Did Josie finish her book challenge for tonight?"

"Just before dinner," Derek confirmed. "But I must say I prefer The Tree that Sat Down before the Milly-Molly-Mandy Storybook. Just saying."

Meredith smiled. "At least she's not reading cartoon stories that she knows by heart from her DVDs." She broke off as a cough bellowed through her body, but waved depreciatively when Derek turned around. "Don't."

The little hallway in the part of their house that held the bedrooms was not quite as neat as she remembered leaving it yesterday morning, but she didn't comment on it. When they had realized their youngest daughter would possibly not walk or move easily, they had given up the thought of living at the brim of the city, in a distant wood that required ferry trips and good balance to walk around. They had spent quite a while looking for a house that would fit their needs, but a large house with no stairs was not that easy to come by and one day, Derek had come home, wavering with blueprints of his own creation. Despite the reminder it gave her of the awful period when she hadn't been ready for any commitment to him, she had seen a sparkle in his eye and agreed to that yes, buying that last house and remodeling it would be a great idea.

And it really had been. The building act in itself, she thought, had been therapy for Derek, getting him a sense of being able to actually do something for their daughter and to be the man for his family in a way she knew he always thrived to. And although their little girl was learning to climb stairs with much effort, a house that didn't have any was a much more secure and better environment for her.

Meredith had gone into labor eight weeks early and Jennie – not a name on Josie's list – had been delivered by C-section two months and seventeen days after Josie's third birthday and with about a fourth of Meredith's third year as a fellow left. She had been immediately taken away from her to be checked upon, and later placed in a neonatal care unit. But she hadn't needed any immediate additional surgery more than the shunt insertion to cope with the high intracranial pressure caused by the hydrocephalus that was so common in children with spina bifida.

Even though she thought she'd been done mourning her baby's condition, reluctance of actually giving birth had grown during the last weeks. Like with Josie, it wasn't that she thought the baby wouldn't be loved and not even that they weren't equipped to take care of her. But her medical knowledge didn't leave her mind resting about the procedures and treatments and discomforts her baby would have to experience once she was let out from the protective shield of her abdomen. Much to her relief, all such fears subsided quickly once her little girl had been placed on her stomach and her weak high-pitched wails had quieted by her soothing assurances that came with no effort at all.

All the check-ups, medical team conferences and the frequent therapy Jennie was required to aside, the first time with her had been pretty much like the one Meredith had spent at home with Josie as an infant. With Josie, she'd only used eight of the maternity leave weeks she was entitled to; this time, she'd claimed the whole 12 week period. Just like last time, Derek had cut back his hours for a while after that to ensure Jennie wouldn't have to endure twelve hours days in someone else's care. They had been cautious about enrolling Jennie in daycare, but to their relief she responded well to being left there even from the beginning and the fact that it was the hospital's daycare allowed them to have the therapists come there and train her in a natural environment.

When she was six months old, they'd enrolled her in the Infant Development Program two days a week. It had been Derek's idea; the program was specially designed for children with disabilities and he'd insisted on doing everything he could think of to let Jennie develop to her fullest potential. Meredith had been a tad hesitant to add yet an appointment to their schedule, but appreciated the many practical tips they got on how to best help Jennie, tips that their medical experience didn't necessarily provided them with.

Despite the fact that that period had been relatively undramatic, Meredith remembered the first year mostly as in a blur. She could pinpoint single moments with a crystal clarity, though, like the first time Derek had brought Josie to the hospital to meet her little sister. Jennie had been born in the wee hours of morning and Derek had pushed the moment until his shift had ended and it was almost dinner time, wanting to make sure both Meredith and Jennie were ready. Meredith had heard Josie's eager steps in the corridor and Derek telling her to take it easy before she fell, but once she'd peeked through the doorway, she'd become tentative.

"Mommy?"

She'd smiled at her, hoping that it didn't come across as tiredly and reached out the hand that didn't cradle Jennie.

"Hi, sweetie."

Derek had had to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the bed before she'd said anything else. Josie had been sleeping when her contractions had started and she knew Lexie had dropped her off at daycare that morning. She'd hoped that the change in the routine hadn't upset her too much.

"Hi," Josie had mumbled, securing her grip in Derek's sweater and pursuing her lips a little as if she didn't know what to make of the sight of her mommy in a hospital bed.

"Do you want to see your little sister?" Derek asked. "She's right there in Mommy's arms."

Josie hesitated only slightly before she nodded and Derek carefully eased her down beside Meredith on the bed. Josie had studied the baby where she lay cradled on Meredith's arm, wrapped in a yellow blanket, with big eyes for quite a while before she tilted her head a little and looked up at Meredith.

"She has a big head," she'd stated.

"She has," Meredith had agreed. "Remember how we talked about how the baby was sick? That's why her head is a little big right now."

Josie had seemed to consider this for a moment. "Then she's gonna be _very_ smart," she'd said then seriously.

And that simple acceptance had been the lead in the sisters' relationship from the very beginning, even if they'd had to work to help Josie adjust. Having a sister with a disability many times meant getting less time with her and Derek, and lesser attention from just about everyone around them. They had both made a point of including Josie in Jennie's training whenever it was possible, stressing that she too had an important role in her sister's life. After some initial resistance, mainly due to the fact that everything they did had to be limited to Jennie's schedule, Josie had responded well. She was often eager to help and during the years, she and Jennie had grown a special bond and played very well together.

The desk lamp spread a somber light over the girls' work. Derek had turned off her ceiling lamp, and he had slid off the covers. Her school bag was standing next to her desktop, packed with tomorrow's things. Jennie sat in the chair they had accommodated for her and Josie was perched next to her at a chair she'd taken in from the hallway. Both girls were wrapped up in coloring pictures they'd drawn from _My First English Words_, a book Meredith had used with both of them when they were still toddlers, and that somehow had remained in the bookcase even though they both had passed that age a long time ago.

"Hey," she said and stifled a yawn.

"Mom!" Josie jumped up from her chair. She already had her pajamas on, a lavender long-sleeved shirt with the print of a panda curled up in the middle and a matching pair of pants. Her curls were damp and hanging straight after her bath and Meredith could tell Derek had allowed her to use her shampoo when Josie flung herself around her neck.

"Did you have a good day?" Meredith asked, addressing them both. Josie shrugged, and Jennie merely tilted her head and held up her picture for Meredith to inspect.

"This is a good one," Meredith remarked, taking the picture and studying it for a moment. "Is this the dog's puppy?"

"_Iht-en_," Jennie replied as if it was obvious for anyone that the tiny shape with disproportional ears right to the more recognizable dog was a kitten.

"I see," Meredith said, exchanging a look with Derek and tried not to smile at the sparkle in his eyes. "Is it time for bed?"

"Are you going to read a story?" Josie countered immediately.

Meredith hesitated, the exhaustion that had subsided partially while greeting her children creeping its way up her spine again. She swallowed cautiously only to confirm that her throat still was sore.

"You didn't read yesterday," Josie went on while Jennie carefully colored a bright yellow sun at her paper, making no move at getting up. With Meredith and Derek's long hours and irregular schedules, a strict bedtime routine was sometimes hard to maintain, but the night Meredith were home, they all used to curl up in one of the girls' room and read together.

"You know what," Derek interjected from the doorway. "Mommy doesn't feel well tonight and she's very tired. Why don't we all go and lie down in the big bed and I'll read for all of my girls?"

That caught Jennie's attention and she looked up with a slight concern.

"Ah-mmy, you ihck?"

Meredith smiled and stroked her cheek. "I'm not really sick. My throat's just a little sore. I'll be ok if I get some sleep and maybe some medicine. Is it ok if Daddy reads the story tonight?"

Jennie nodded and put away the crayon, reaching her arms up for Meredith to pick her up. She obliged, but eased her over in Derek's arms. Usually, they were careful to make sure she moved around as independently as possible, but the break from her braces would make it harder than necessary for her.

"Can you take her? I need to change and brush my teeth. Is she done in the bathroom?"

"Yep," Derek nodded. "She's both cathed and bathed."

"Ok," Meredith said. "Josie, why don't you get the book and I'll be right back?"

"Ah-mmy," Jennie whined as they all stepped out in the little hallway between the bedrooms. "Is ay-ght."

"What do you mean, Jen?" Meredith asked, looking around to see what was bothering her.

"No ah-mp, no ah-mp," she grumbled. She was squinting towards the lamp above them, still lit and clearly a contrast to the softened light in her room.

"Daddy's taking you to the bedroom," Meredith told her. "We're gonna put out the light in there too."

If Jennie's first year had been easier to get through than Meredith had dared to hope, her toddler years had been more challenging. Knowing that her spinal injury was pretty low, it had overwhelmed them how much effort it took to help Jennie find mobility and to which extent she had to work to gain the independence they had taken for granted with Josie. Nothing came naturally. It wasn't just about the first step or crawl – which brought so much more joy than Josie's had done – she needed help with rolling over, sitting up and balancing her head. Meredith remembered the brief chapters of rehabilitation for paralysis patients back in med school, but she was surprised over the help Jennie needed to learn the absolute basics. There were physical therapists to help her gain stability in her upper body, occupational therapists to strengthen the dexterity and fine motor skills and even recreational therapy to help her play, something her limited mobility didn't allow her to do by herself. Meredith learned to be careful to make every activity with Jennie a training session and Josie was the best motivation Jennie could ask for, curious as she was of her sister and eager to follow her the best she could.

That was still true, Meredith mused as she leaned over the bathroom sink, dabbing her eyes with makeup remover while she was rinsing out the last of the toothpaste from her mouth. The sisters got along very well. Josie was the natural role model for Jennie, unconsciously pushing her to do things that might have been out of reach hadn't she tried hard enough. Jennie on the other hand, chatty and enthusiastic as she was, provided the much needed company Josie missed out on by being so withdrawn elsewhere.

She stepped into the master bedroom a couple of minutes later and smiled at the sight of both her children snuggled up in their bed. Like her, Derek had changed into a t-shirt and the pair of sweatpants he used to lumber around in on his days off. She slipped into the bed on her side, carefully crawling over Josie to lie between her daughters just as Jennie yawned.

"I seeh-p wi-d you, Ah-mmy," she told her.

"You'll sleep with me," Meredith agreed. "You're tired already?"

"Now, where's the book?" Derek asked, pulling the covers up a little over his youngest daughter and hoisting himself up in a more upright position. "And where did you leave off last time?"

Josie leaned over Meredith and handed him _The Complete Adventures of Curious George_, a book they'd started reading quite a while ago and that held all eight original Curious George stories. "This one," she informed him. "Where he goes to the hospital."

Jennie nuzzled closer to Meredith and leaned her head against her chest while Derek browsed the books for the right page, and Meredith's thoughts wandered once again back to the past.

Her friends had been of tremendous help during those toddler years where anxiety constantly lingered just beneath the surface. Just to have someone else to trust the children to when they needed made the burden lift from their shoulders significantly; someone who as well as themselves early would spot one of those infections that seemed to plague Jennie whatever they did to keep her healthy. Josie was still not keen on spending a night at Lexie's, but if Jennie also were there, she warmed up considerably, her will to care for and protect her sister greater than her unease to be away from Meredith and Derek. When Jennie's speech development turned out to be delayed and her sounds hard to understand, Lexie had enthusiastically taken on an evening class in sign language, something that actually not only helped Jennie communicate more effectively but also supported her fine motor skills.

Despite them constantly having their hands full those years, Derek and her were careful to actively maintain their relationship. As the girls got older, it got easier to get that well-needed time just the two of them. That Jennie was an easy child despite all her physical challenges and all the time amazed them by overcoming her struggles also helped to relieve the pressure of the everyday life.

"'George took one out'," Derek read. "It looked like a piece of candy. Maybe it WAS candy Maybe he could eat it. George put the piece in his mouth – and before he knew it, he had swallowed it'."

"Ah-ddy, not ah-ndy," Jennie murmured knowingly and pointed to the picture where George stands over a wooden box with colorful pieces.

"You don't think it's candy?" Derek asked. "Then maybe he shouldn't have eaten that piece."

"No," Jennie said. "No good."

Meredith smiled a little where she lay. She had closed her eyes and let herself being lulled by Derek's voice and her daughters' warm bodies pressed against hers. Reading about George seemed to fit Jennie perfectly. She loved the colorful illustrations and got deeply engaged in all the troubles George got into. Josie was maybe on the edge of being too old for books like this, but she seemed to enjoy it nevertheless. Reading stories had become a great way of giving Jennie opportunities to converse, something that didn't always come easily.

It had taken some time for her to find the language. She'd been three when they could decipher sentences with more than two or three words and even then, it had been hard to interpret her without clarifying signs to go with her speech. Once she'd started, though, her language had exploded and she chatted happily with everyone she met. Her pronunciation difficulties that Derek and Meredith had hoped would solve themselves over time had persisted though, and despite regular speech therapy, it was hard for people that didn't know her to understand her properly. Aside from the pure inaccurate articulation, she also had a disrupted speech melody and her intonation could oscillate between high and low at any time. They'd never really had a discussion with her caregivers about communication devices to help her express herself but Derek had researched which apps were used for helping communication and downloaded a few of them to his iPad for Jennie to try out. She was pretty interested in using it, especially as Josie used to beg them to let her play with it every time they took it out, and so they used it those times when neither words nor signs were enough.

Her dexterity had benefited in ways the therapist still amazed over, but her spinal injury still limited her to a wheelchair for longer walks, even if she could do with long leg braces or a walker at home or in preschool. She'd started preschool only a few months ago. Meredith had been a little anxious about that, seeing that she was doing great in daycare and that both the teachers and the other children had known her for her whole life. But Jennie had seemed to adjust pretty quickly to preschool, making friends already the first week and being enthusiastic about her ABCs and numbers. Meredith knew what cognitive problems could come with spina bifida and she kept in constant touch with Jennie's teacher as to ensure they would catch any such indication early. So far though, Jennie was a bright girl, eager to learn, talkative in the classroom and had no problems reciting long paragraphs or spell her words.

"...'Don't worry George,' said the man when they were driving to the hospital, 'you have been there before, when you broke your leg. Remember how nice the doctors and nurses were?'" Derek read. "'George held his big rubber ball tight as they walked up the hospital steps.'" He paused and Meredith assumed he was looking up to see if they were still with him. She knew they were not yet at the end of the chapter, but if the girls had fallen asleep, they could always finish it another night.

"Air-ed in ohs-tih-tal," Jennie said, sitting up a little straighter. Going by her slurry voice, Meredith guessed she'd almost dozen off for a little while. She pointed to the picture of George climbing up the hospital entrance while she shook her head and gestured to herself at the same time.

"You think he's sad in there?" Derek asked.

"Nooo," Jennie said. "Not sad."

"Oh, he's _not_ sad," Derek nodded.

"_No_," Jennie said again. "Not sad, Ah-ddy!" And she kept pointing at herself to get her point across.

"You're not sad?" Derek asked and winced when Jennie banged her fist disappointedly at the bed. "No? I'm sorry, Jen. Can you say it again for me?"

"Air-ed," Jennie mumbled reluctantly, the eager tone in her voice completely gone.

"She says she's not scared when she's in a hospital," Josie offered.

"Is that right, Bug?" Derek asked.

Jennie nodded. "I not air-ed." She made a slight pause. "Oh-ly when it uh-rt."

Meredith ached for knowing that these misunderstandings already at four were a daily part of her life. The iPad wasn't a solution for situations like this. If she remembered correctly, it was currently in Derek's den, and going up to get it would certainly have ruined the moment. They both wanted Jennie to feel that she could express herself in her own way, and that her parents were able to understand her as she spoke. She hated that her daughter was forced to learn to cope with things like this without having the chance of choosing. She wondered what Jennie thought of constantly having to repeat herself, how the frustration of not getting understood really affected her. They had never really discussed it with her. As long as she'd been enrolled in the hospital's daycare, her exposure to people had been pretty limited. She'd been able to get away with baby speech up until pretty recently and she'd almost always had people around her to interpret her if needed. Now that she started preschool though, that was about to change and Meredith knew situations like this were likely to arise.

"That's ok," Derek assured her now, not saying anything about that but instead answering her unspoken question. "You're allowed to be scared if something's new and confusing. If you're having a hard time with it, you're telling me or Mommy, right?"

"Is oh-ey," Jennie said, more confidently now that neither of her parents had made a big deal out of this particular issue and Meredith couldn't help but smile at how she picked up on how both she and Derek used to assure the children of something.

"Ok," Derek said, sensing her reluctance to explore the subject further and letting it go. "Anybody sleepy yet?"

"Mom," Josie said, making Jennie giggle. "I think she fell asleep."

Despite actually sleeping, Meredith kept her eyes closed and heard Derek resume his reading, reflecting over what Jennie had said. She knew it hadn't always been a smooth ride, however well Jennie was doing in school. Meredith was constantly reminded of the situation that could arise arise outside of the safe ring of friends and family. Not only did people at the street stare curiously if they saw Jennie walk by or maneuver her wheelchair. Several times they had to cope with questions and even prejudices while meeting either new acquaintances or, not that uncommon, totally strangers. If the questions were directed at Jennie – which in fact, they seldom were – she usually did answer for herself, but often Meredith must interpret for her. She always thought it was interesting to watch people's reactions to that. The random stranger would offer pity - "I'm so sorry, I didn't know" (How would you?) - and then, a comment like "I can't believe she's so cute, though" (She is) or "But she seems really smart" (Why wouldn't she be?).

She stirred a little when the bed shifted as Derek eased himself off it, scooping a sound asleep Jennie up in his arms and quietly instructing Josie to go to bed in her own room. She'd thought that if she fell asleep, she would be dead for the world until sometime tomorrow noon, but she guessed it wouldn't be that easy. She rolled onto her back and considered fleetly going up to say a proper good night to the girls before burying her head in the pillow again, but decided against it. Derek had them, and he would make sure they got up and to school tomorrow. She would pick them up early, after maybe going in to the hospital to catch up on those charts she should have been doing had she not gotten that trauma at ten last evening.

She closed her eyes again, trying to shrug off that nagging feeling of worry that always lingered. Even though Jennie's speech difficulties still hadn't resolved themselves, like they'd anticipated, didn't mean they wouldn't. Surely, with the right help, she would knack the code to the communication other children took for granted. Meredith just wished they could be sure of the origin of her problems. Maybe then there was anything she could do to speed up the process. They would, she vowed herself. They would find out. They would help their daughter.

_A/N – Thanks for reading! I hope I got off ok with the transcription of Jennie's speech. I'd love to get some feedback for that for coming chapters. Did it sound plausible, like a four-year old with a speech impairment could sound? Was it understandable – and if so, with or without the clues in the context? Was it hard to read? Anything else I should think about about it? _


	3. Just forget about your troubled mind

_A/N – Thank you to all who commented on my last chapter. Although this is chapter three, it was actually the one I wrote last. That is because during the time it took me to write following my original outline, I gathered a lots of bits and pieces I'd like to include, and in the end, they had summed up to so many that they needed an own chapter. Many of them, and part of my inspiration as a whole for this fic, come from several blogs where parents tell about life with their children who has a disability. So if this fic should be dedicated to someone, I guess it's to those parents who are so fully devoted to give their children the best – and who have the strength to take the time to tell others about it._

Meredith nodded satisfied as she opened the door to the backseat of the car. She'd stopped at the local grocery store instead of the supermarket where they used to go on weekends, to avoid the afternoon crowds. She leaned into the car and unstrapped Jennie from her booster seat and hoisted her up on her hip.

"Want to go in the cart, Jen?"

"Ah-rt," Jennie squealed and Meredith smiled. Rather than dragging her wheelchair out for just a ten minutes food pick up, letting her sit in the cart seemed like an easy solution.

She'd picked Jennie up only minutes ago from a party a few blocks away and even if she'd whined a little, she hadn't really made any scene about having to leave early. Josie had really been the one invited to the party, and Derek had promised to go with her. Meredith was supposed to pick up Jennie from preschool, but an emergency consult had had her call Derek and ask him to bring her along until she got out of the hospital.

The store wasn't entirely empty, but there were few enough customers to easily wheel the cart around in the aisles and not having to bump into other people when reaching for the tomatoes or the chicken breasts.

They didn't need much tonight, so Meredith just picked out a bread, some yogurt and some vegetables to make herself a salad.

"Jen, want to pick out a fruit for dessert?"

She wheeled the cart closer to the fruit stand so that Jennie would see better. She used to buy bananas and mash them for her, but lately, Jennie hadn't seen keen on eating it. Maybe it would help if she got her pick.

"Ee-sh," Jennie said and pointed. Meredith wasn't sure where her finger was supposed to go but picked up an orange anyway.

"This?"

Jennie shook her head.

"Do you want bananas?"

"Nah-nahs," Jennie said and nodded.

"You want bananas?" Meredith said and put four in a bag. "That good?"

"Ahp-ehl," Jennie insisted and kept pointing. "See?"

When she saw that Meredith still didn't understand, she formed her hands to a round. Meredith followed her eyes.

"Ah, you want apples," she said, finally getting the message. "Apples it is then."

They trudged slowly through the store, none of them in any hurry. Now and then Jennie pointed at something on the shelves and babbled but mostly she sat quietly down, busy looking around. Nobody else was in line at the counter but as Meredith started piling up her groceries on the conveyor belt, a younger woman stepped in behind her.

"Ah-mmy," Jennie said, pulling her sleeve where she was still sitting in her cart. "Ah-mmy, he has eehl-shair."

Meredith turned around to see what she was looking at. The woman behind them was carrying her purchases in a basket, not a cart, but she was also pushing a wheelchair in front of her. A little boy, maybe five or six years old, was strapped loosely in it, his head leaning against a headrest and his little body not quite upright. Meredith met his mother's gaze and smiled. The woman had a wary look in her eyes, like she was all too used to other children's glares and didn't quite smile back.

"Dr. Grey," the cashier said as she rang up Meredith's purchases and nodded at her. "How are you today?"

Meredith turned back to the counter and pushed her cart a few inches forward and started pulling out her wallet. Just as she was about to put her purse up on the counter to better get a look in it, someone grabbed her right leg and made her almost fall.

She turned around again and met the terrified gaze of the young mother. Her son's small arms were wrapped against her leg and he was halfway out of his chair.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized profusely and sat down to pry her son's hands off Meredith. "He doesn't mean any harm."

"Oooh-oooh," the little boy said, not wanting to let go of the leg. "Oooh-ooh."

Meredith put up her purse at the counter, nodding silently to the cashier, who seemed unsure whether or not to intervene, to wait. Then she sat down on the floor so that she came eye to eye with the little boy.

"Hi there," she said gently. "What did you say?"

"He means doctor," the boy's mother said nervously, clearly a little thrown off by Meredith's act. "He must have heard the cashier. He's been a little obsessed with them lately."

"You're right, I'm a doctor," Meredith told the boy. "I work at the hospital. I bet you've been there once or twice."

"Uu-uh," the boy said and threw his left hand out. Meredith smiled and let him touch her coat.

"I don't look like a doctor now, do I? I left my doctor's coat at the hospital when I left today."

She sat for a couple of more minutes on the floor, letting the boy touch her hands and even face while talking to him about what she did at the hospital, something his head bobbed happily up and down to. When she stood up again, the young woman had tears in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"My pleasure," Meredith said simply, but knew that this mother probably more often than not faced encounters turning out totally differently. "I enjoyed talking to your son."

When she stood in the kitchen half an hour later, the little boy still haunted her thoughts. She looked at Jennie sitting at the kitchen table, aimlessly scribbling a little with some crayons on a paper in anticipation for dinner and a surge of gratefulness welled up. Sure, she'd had to carry her back to the car and she had to put down her bags with groceries so that she could unlock the car and put her in. But Jennie could stand unassisted if she needed to. And sure, she'd had to ask again for some of her words, but she could articulate. Not as they might have hoped, but still. There were so many things that she could do, and all of them were so easy to forget in the never-ending hunt for the abilities that she hadn't.

"What do you want for dinner?" she asked and threw open the fridge.

Jennie slipped off her chair and made her way over the kitchen table to peek into it. She stumbled a little, which made Meredith frown, but she said nothing. She scanned it carefully and then lit up at the sight of the meatloaf from yesterday's dinner.

"Eat-moaf," she said and looked expectantly at Meredith. "And ohp-ey-toes."

She turned around, something that made her almost fall over, and looked expectantly at the steel basket on the counter, the one where Meredith and Derek always put potatoes and onions. Meredith smiled a little because Jennie almost always chose potatoes if she could.

"Ok," she said, more interested in the fact that her daughter's coordination seemed a little off than in her dinner choices. "Jennie, are you having trouble walking? Do your new braces hurt?"

"No," Jennie said.

Meredith scrutinized her for a moment, but she seemed sincere and not bothered by it. She shrugged and took out a plate from the cupboard and scooped up a large enough portion on it and put it into the micro-wave. While it was heating up, she cut up some peppers and onions to mix for a salad. She rummaged through the fridge's shelves; there should be a piece of blue cheese in there somewhere.

"There," she muttered while she at last saw it under a plastic lunch box that someone, probably Derek, had forgotten to take out last night. She sniffed it suspiciously and decided to throw it away.

"It oh-nt meh-ll good, Ah-mmy," Jennie nodded as if she agreed in Meredith's assessment. She was sitting down at the table again, but she hadn't gone on with her coloring. Instead she was watching Meredith work, but not with her usual curiosity. In fact, Meredith thought she looked a little tired.

"You're right, it doesn't smell good," she merely replied, refraining from commenting on it. "I think it's too old. Can you check on the food?" she asked when the micro-wave beeped. "Is it warm enough?"

Jennie nodded and slided down from her seat. The micro-wave was way too high up on the counter for her to reach by herself, but she reached her arms up and Meredith lifted her so that she could open the door and touch the food with her finger.

"It warm, Ah-mmy," she said after a few seconds. "I eat it."

"Ok, that's good," Meredith said and put her down again and took out the plate.

She opened the top drawer and took out a fork and started to mash the potatoes. It was a tricky balance; Jennie's oral difficulties made it hard for her to chew and swallow all types of food. On the other hand, she benefited from practicing and they knew they would need to give her chunkier food to encourage this. Giving her bigger pieces always put her at risk for choking and Meredith was always a little wary to do that. She decided on a compromise; mashing the potatoes quite a bit to soften them up, but still leaving lumps.

"What bowl do you want?" she asked, wise from earlier experiences of trying to just pick one.

Jennie could be one of the most stubborn children she'd ever met and was sure to let them know if she didn't get it her way. Picking out what to eat in was one of those things she was absolutely intended on getting to do by herself.

"My ih-nk!" Jennie said immediately.

Meredith placed the heated-up meatloaf and the mashed potatoes in Jennie's favorite pink bowl that was made of the most unbreakable plastic material Meredith had ever seen. She couldn't count all those times it had fallen to the ground, or been thrown across the room, or banged at the table. Still it was completely whole, though with a fair share of scratches and marks. They had gotten it at Great Wolf Lodge when they had been there for vacation last summer, the first time they had taken the children to an adventure land like that. Both of them had loved it, and even though Jennie hadn't spoken comprehensively for those that didn't know her, she'd convinced a girl on the staff to let her keep this particular bowl after a play activity.

Meredith quickly stirred together a mix of milk, some Asian soy and a little flour and put it in a saucepan on the stove to heat up. It was easier for Jennie to eat her food if it was mixed with something that made it softer and easier to chew. With her spina bifida, though, they always had to watch out for what food they gave her. Both Meredith and Derek were aware of the problems with over-weight that lured around the corner for children in wheelchairs that were not growing very tall as they got older. They didn't want to restrict Jennie from eating things she would enjoy, but they always tried to think about making most of their food from scratch and avoid prepackaged stuff.

"Ah-mmy, eh-lp me," Jennie begged, pointing to her food.

Lately, she'd started asking for help in situations she used to do all by herself before. This lapse in progression had worried Meredith a little, but she tried to wait it out. Josie had been like this too, although in her case, she'd had a little sister that took a lot of her and Derek's energy and had had a hard time accepting that all their time and attention didn't focus on her like before.

"No, Jennie," Meredith replied now. "You can eat by yourself. I know you can."

"No," Jennie whined in a voice that told nothing about her usually a little slurred speech. Ironically, despite being such a happy child, she'd always been the most clear on her nos.

"You want some milk? In your pink cup?" Meredith asked to provide some distraction. It was something that usually worked pretty well, and today was no exception. Jennie nodded and stirred her mashed potatoes with her spoon.

Meredith poured a little milk in a plastic cup in the same color as the bowl. It didn't actually come from the same collection, or even from the same place as the bowl, but it's similar enough to pass for a set, at least for Jennie. It had no handles, though, and thus it proved a little more different for Jennie to drink from than necessary. Meredith put a heap of paper towels before her on the table and a dish towel in her lap so she wouldn't spill all over her clothes. She watched Jennie take an eager sip from her cup, and surely, some of it trickled through the corners of her mouth. Jennie didn't care, or maybe she didn't feel it, because she didn't pick up a towel to wipe it off. Meredith knew it was no idea to help her before she'd finished her meal.

"Is ih-nk," Jennie said, pointing to her bowl and her cup, looking expectantly at Meredith.

"You're right, they're pink," Meredith confirmed. "With yummy food." She sat down across the table with her plate and a glass of water and watched Jennie obediently start spoon feeding herself. "That's my girl."

"You has ah-lad," Jennie said and pointed to her food. "Not good."

"Yep, salad for me," Meredith acknowledged. "You like real food better, right? What food do you like most?"

"Ice tee-hm!" Jennie said and giggled when Meredith shook her head disbelievingly.

"Ok, that's not food, crazy girl" Meredith argued. "So what do you like to eat for dinner?"

But Jennie had lost interest in the conversation already and was instead examining the cup she was still holding.

"Noooo," she said.

"No?" Meredith repeated. She quickly checked the food and peeked down in the cup. Nothing seemed different. "What's wrong?"

"Nooo," Jennie said again, pointing to her cup.

"You don't want that cup?" Meredith asked, but Jennie shook her head and pressed her index finger against the cup a few times as to emphasize something.

Puzzled, Meredith leaned over a little to see what she meant. She studied the little cup with a scrutiny she'd probably never had. The cup wasn't merely plain pink, it actually had a few prints on it, something she'd never noticed before. Next to the manufacturer's name and a little trophy, it said 'No. 1', something she'd never noticed before.

But Jennie did.

"Nooo," she said again and nodded.

Meredith glanced at her. Jennie started a little with some letters and words in preschool. When she sat with her to go over those words, she knew some of the easy ones – like 'I', and 'the' and 'and', but other than that, she'd never before read a word to her by herself.

"That's right! It says 'no'!" Meredith told Jennie, who had a big grin on her face. "Good girl! We need to tell Daddy that you read a word when he gets home."

"Ee-sh," Jennie said and nodded, pleased with herself. "Ah-mmy, we ai-ght?"

"Say that again?" Meredith said.

"We ai-ght?"

"We're right? About what?"

"No," Jennie said and pointed at the little candle holder in the middle of the table. It looked like a spiral and Meredith had gotten it from Richard and Adele only a week or so ago, when they had been over for dinner. Jennie and Josie had both been fascinated with it, because it smelled like some kind of flower and it changed colors randomly while it burned.

"Oh, the lights," Meredith said and nodded. "Do you think we should lit the candle?"

"Ee-sh," Jennie said happily.

Just then, the telephone rang and Meredith stood up to answer.

"Hi," she heard Derek in the other end. "Just calling to say we're leaving in a bit. Everything's good?"

"Yeah," Meredith replied. "We're still eating. How's Josie doing?"

There was a slight pause.

"Well," Derek said slowly. "It's been an interesting night. I'll tell you when I get home."

"Ok," Meredith said a little puzzled. "Oh, you know what Jennie just did? I'm gonna put her on the phone so she can tell you herself." She put the phone between her shoulder and her ear and lifted Jennie up in her lap before giving the phone over to her. "Jennie, it's Daddy. Tell him what you just did."

But Jennie just studied the phone and pouted her lips a little bit, not saying anything.

"Bug?" she heard Derek say over the line. "What did you wanna tell me?"

"Tell Daddy," Meredith encouraged her when she still didn't say a word. "Tell him you read a word by yourself."

"Read a word," Jennie said obediently and Meredith almost stopped in her tracks.

She'd almost never heard Jennie say something so intelligibly before, apart from her endless nos. Derek seemed stunned as well, because she could hear him draw a breath on the other side of the phone.

"Wow, that's really good, Bug," he said after a moment. "And you know what? You said those words really clearly too. Big things happening tonight, huh?"

More than half an hour later, when they had almost finished their meal and the candle had accompanied them with a sober, pretty atmospheric light, the front door opened and they could hear Derek and Josie burst in.

It took her a few minutes, but eventually Josie came into the kitchen. She was walking slowly and looked a little restless when she sat down across the table from where Jennie was sitting.

"Hi there," Meredith said. "Did you have a good time at the party?"

"It was ok," Josie said and shrugged a little.

"Just ok?" Meredith asked. "You didn't have fun?"

"Sure," Josie said, but didn't elaborate. Meredith took a closer look at her. She didn't look different from when she had seen her fleetingly at the party a couple of hours ago, but there was something about her demeanor that made her a little concerned.

"Is something wrong?" she asked carefully.

Josie sighed and looked at her. "My belly hurts," she said quietly.

Meredith cast a glance at Derek, who by now had joined them in the kitchen and was tapping up a glass of water for himself. He merely shrugged, and she turned her attention back to Josie.

"Your belly hurts? Did you eat too much cake at the party?"

"No," Josie said. "I didn't want that cake."

"That's true," Derek confirmed when Meredith raised her eyebrows. "She didn't eat anything over at Sheila's."

Meredith studied her oldest daughter. She was unsure if the cause of her stomach ache really was physical or if something had happened at the party that made her uneasy. If it was the latter, she would need to talk to her about it. Now though, she seemed in the need for a little cheering up, no matter the reason.

"Well," she said and smiled at both her and Jennie. "Do you think some ice cream would help?"

"Ice tee-hm!" Jennie exclaimed and Josie's face brightened a little at the mention of her favorite dessert. Meredith couldn't help but feel grateful that such a simple thing could still make her children happy. She took out a carton of ice cream and placed it on the kitchen counter while she rummaged in the cupboards for two bowls.

"I only want vanilla!" Josie protested once she saw the flavor.

"You love chocolate ice cream," Meredith pointed out and opened the carton to let the ice cream soften a little.

"Not anymore," Josie said stubbornly.

"Well, that's all we have," Derek said firmly. "Do you want a scoop or not?"

Josie glared at him for a moment and then sunk down on a chair, waiting for the bowl of chocolate ice cream Meredith put before her.

"Ok," she muttered.

Meredith looked at Josie with a frown, but gave her a free pass as she placed even more paper towels before Jennie, because if drinking sometimes could be messy for her, ice cream could be even worse. At least, ice cream didn't come with hard chunks, so she didn't have to worry about choking. She half expected Jennie to ask her to feed her again, but she eagerly grabbed the spoon and started to slurp her helping. She didn't even seem to spill that much.

"Good job, Jennie," Meredith encouraged her and Jennie grinned up at her.

"Look at me, Mommy! I'm almost finished already!"

"You're doing a great job too, Jo," Meredith told Josie, careful not to point out that eating a bowl of ice cream hadn't been a challenge for her for about six years. For being set aside those countless times where she and Derek had had to focus on Jennie, Josie relatively rarely demanded praise for something she'd done, especially something that she knew was an easy task for her. Still, sometimes a need for attention surfaced, and Meredith had really worked to ensure she wouldn't just tell her she was a big girl, shrugging off her need to be seen.

"Can I watch T.V.?" Josie said as she pushed her bowl across the table.

"Not until Jennie has finished," Meredith said. "You can watch T.V. a bit before bed, but you both need to get ready in the bathroom first.

"But Mommy!" Josie whined and pouted her lips at Meredith. "I wanna watch cartoons!"

Derek raised his eyebrows.

"Josie, do as Mom says," he said. "Bath first, T.V. after."

"No!" Josie shot back and Meredith frowned again. It wasn't at all like Josie to grumble like this, especially not after having been treated to something. She saw that Derek too watched Josie with an increasing irritation, and was glad when Jennie provided a distraction by pulling at her sleeve.

"Ah-mmy, I all good," she said and pointed to her almost empty bowl.

"Yeah, you're good," Meredith said and nodded. "Then let's go brush your teeth, both of you, before it's bedtime."

"Ah-mmy, I haf a ba-dh ooh?" Jennie asked as she took Meredith's hand and climbed down the chair.

"Yes," Meredith nodded. "Like you always do."

She led Jennie into the bathroom, looking over her shoulder to see if Josie had followed. Jennie used to like her evening baths and had nothing against sitting in the shallow water, happily playing with some plastic toys. Josie was more reluctant and always made a slight fuss before she let Meredith help her shower.

She turned on the water and while they waited for the tub to fill up, she helped Jennie strip off her clothes and carefully removed her braces.

"You're a bit red here," she said, gently touching Jennie's right calf where she could see early signs of pressure sores. "You feel that?"

Jennie shook her head no and reached for the edge of the tub, showing no interest in what Meredith was doing. Meredith inspected her legs once more, but then lifted her into the tub and helped her sit down while she made sure the nozzle wasn't too hot.

"Come on, Jo," she said as she carefully helped Jennie lean backwards under the water faucet and soaked her hair. "Your show's about to begin, let's get this over with."

While Josie sulkily, but without any real protests, undressed and climbed into the tub with her sister, Meredith squeezed out what was left in Jennie's shampoo bottle. Reminding herself that she had to buy a new one, she rubbed it into Jennie's hair. She gave Josie the bottle that was hers and smiled when she poured a good enough amount of it into her hands and started rubbing it in. Unlike when she was a little younger, she did it quite right and got her whole head shampooed, something that wasn't very easy with all her curly hair.

While Jennie played with the few cups and the pink elephant that squirted water when you pressed its middle, Meredith gently poured water over her head to rinse out the shampoo. She took care to wash Jennie's legs and feet, where she had very little sensation, so they surely would get cleaned.

"Jo, wipe off yourself with your shower gel," she instructed. "I'll help you with your hair in a minute."

"I good?" Jennie asked, looking up at her from where she was splashing with both her hands so that small waves appeared on the surface.

"Not yet," Meredith said. "You're gonna get some shower gel too, and then you can play a little while I help Josie, ok?"

As expected, Josie fussed when Meredith helped her rinse out her hair, even though she let her lean her head backwards and hold her hands over her eyes like she absolutely insisted on.

"Josie," she sighed at last when her daughter had three times stirred her head away from the faucet just in the last second. "It doesn't hurt getting water in your eyes. If you just let me do it, we'll be done in a minute."

"It does hurt," Josie cried and tried to get away from her hands. "It's not the water, it's the shampoo and it does hurt!"

"Josie," Meredith said tersely and cast a glance at Jennie. She was still sitting down in the tub, playing with a pink dolphin, but Meredith knew it wouldn't be long until she'd begin to whine for not getting up.

"No, no," Josie cried when she tried again to rinse out her shampoo and when she started to move around in the tub to avoid the water, Meredith decided to lift Jennie up. Even if Josie did try to step carefully, it was a second's work for her to slip and fall and if that happened, Meredith didn't want Jennie in the way.

"Do it yourself," she said sternly and put the nozzle in Josie's left hand. "Or else you'll have to wait until I get Jennie clean."

She lifted Jennie out, who by now was wrinkled as a raisin after sitting for so long in the water. She reached for the towels she'd put on the floor and wrapped her in a blue one. She sat down with her on the toilet seat, rubbing her arms and legs dry and then taking a smaller towel for her hair. Jennie leaned back into her neck and took a deep breath and Meredith stopped working with her for a second and cradled her, allowing herself to enjoy the moment.

"Derek," she then called. "Can you come get Jennie?"

She knew Derek was probably busy with one thing or another, and got Jennie started with brushing her teeth in the meantime. It was always bit of a balancing act; sometimes she used to fight Meredith on this, remembering her oral sensitivities, sometimes she gave in. To Meredith's relief, she was ok with it tonight.

"Ay-shelf," she said and grabbed her blue and pink toothbrush from the mug where they kept the children's brushes.

"Sure," Meredith agreed and helped her stand on the little stool they kept in the bathroom so the children would be tall enough to look into the mirror. She usually let Jennie stand by herself but since she'd already removed her braces, she had to hold her up and essentially support all her weight tonight.

When Derek appeared in the doorway, Jennie was almost finished with her bedtime routine; bath, teeth and hair.

"Hey," Meredith sighed when she saw him. "I gotta do Josie too; can you take Jennie to the toilet and then get her ready for bed? Let her wear her short braces if she's gonna be up a while. She's been a bit unstable today; maybe it's the long ones."

As Jennie willingly eased into Derek's arms, she turned to Josie, who was still standing in the tub, using the nozzle to keep herself wet. She hadn't given her hair a try; it was almost white from the shampoo still in it.

After what felt like an eternity, some tears and endless coaxing later, Josie's hair was finally rinsed out and she swept another towel around her and let her dry herself while she drained out the water from the tub and attempted to clean up a little in the bathroom.

"Mommy?" When Meredith turned around, Josie had put her nightgown on and held out the comb from the top of the bathroom shelf. "Can you brush my hair?"

Meredith, who by this time had worked up an irritation and wanted nothing more than getting both Josie and Jennie in bed, softened at the earnest request. She knew it was a peace offering. Josie used to hate the hair brushing even more than the showering since her curls sometimes became tangled and twisted.

"Of course," she said. "Come here." She made Josie stand before her and gently run the comb through her wet hair. It was like Josie felt it was a better move not to try Meredith's patience more this evening, because she stood totally still during Meredith's attempt to tame her curls.

"Jennie," they heard Derek call somewhere inside the house. "It's too late for coloring now, let's get into your room, ok?"

Meredith shook her head, hoping that Derek would be able to tempt Jennie with a goodnight story before she caused a scene not getting her way. She wasn't that lucky though; three minutes later, they both heard Jennie's feet pad over the floor and when she appeared in the doorway, she held out her left index finger for Meredith to see.

"Lee-hd," she said, rather sounding surprised than scared.

Meredith leaned forward to inspect her finger. She was right; there was a thin cut on her finger and fresh blood had started to gush out, although there wasn't much.

"What did you do?" she asked.

"I oh-lor, Ah-mmy," Jennie explained, still looking fascinated at her own finger.

"You colored even though Daddy said you shouldn't?" Meredith asked. "And you cut yourself on the paper?"

"I cut," Jennie agreed, ignoring Meredith's first statement.

"Ok," Meredith sighed, willing to let go if it meant Jennie would go to bed. "Let's wash it off."

She led Jennie to the sink and turned the faucet on, but just as she held Jennie's hand under the faucet, she snatched it backwards.

"No!" she said. "Uh-rt!"

"Jennie," Meredith begged. "It won't hurt. Please."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I oh-nt want oh."

"Jen," Meredith said, sighing with frustration. "Come on now. Daddy's waiting for you."

Josie had been standing quietly next to Meredith the whole time, but now she reached forward and pulled off a piece of toilet paper. She held it for a second under the faucet and then held it out to Jennie.

"Here," she said. "You can do it so you know it won't hurt."

To Meredith's surprise, Jennie obliged. She pressed her finger against the little make-shift cloth that Josie was holding, not quite by the instructions, but it worked.

"Ah-mmy, no lee-hd," Jennie said and looked happily at her finger.

"Great," Meredith sighed. "Will you go out to Daddy now?"

When both Josie and Jennie were placed in front of the T.V., Josie's show had already been going on for fifteen minutes. Given that they'd both had fussed about having to get dressed for bed, they'd only pouted a little before settling in to see the rest of it.

She and Derek had returned to the kitchen and Derek started to put the dishes in their washing machine while Meredith put away the last things in the fridge.

"What's up with her tonight?" Meredith asked, nodding at the living room. "Did something happen?"

"No idea," Derek replied.

"Well," Meredith said and shrugged. "How was the party?"

Sheila, a girl in Josie's class, had invited all girls to a princess-themed tea party this afternoon and Josie had been excited to go all week. Yesterday, though, she'd been quiet and mostly kept to herself in her room and at last, Meredith had gone in to talk to her. After some prodding and beating around the bush about it, Josie had finally admitted that she was scared to go to the party all by herself. Meredith had immediately assured her that she didn't need to. She or Daddy would come with her. Did she want to pick out an outfit now? They could go up and have a look in the dressing up-drawer and see if they could find a dress and maybe a tiara. Josie had relaxed a little at the promise that she wouldn't have to go alone, but she'd absolutely refused to find a dress.

"Princesses are silly, Mommy," she'd said. "I'll have my regular clothes."

And she hadn't changed her mind when time came to leave for the party, even if Meredith in secret had gathered a few outfits just in case. She'd gone off with Derek's hand in hers, wearing a green hoodie and sweatpants and her hair just pulled back in a simple ponytail.

"It was... interesting, to say the least," Derek said now. "Every other girl had put on long, flowery dresses and tiaras. When we got there, they were all dancing around to music and eating brownies."

"Let me guess," Meredith said, raising her eyebrows. "Josie refused to dance?"

"Yep," Derek confirmed. "She mostly sat down at a table together with a few other children, coloring and decorating with some crafts. She seemed to be perfectly happy with that. The other moms, though..."

"You were the only dad?"

"Of course," Derek nodded. "Sheila's mom kept asking me if Josie was doing all right. And another wondered if she was not feeling well."

Meredith shook her head. Maybe it was because that was all so far from her own reality, but she just couldn't get that adult people so swiftly pegged other people, even small children, to be in a certain way just because of traditions or gender roles.

"What did you say?" she wanted to know.

"Not much," Derek said and shrugged. "Just that princesses weren't her thing. Then she told me she was sorry."

Meredith couldn't help but smile a little at the perplexity Derek and Josie must have brought out in those moms, no matter how progressive and modern they thought they were. It also reminded her of something that was easy to forget when helping Jennie deal with stares and comments. People struggled with _any_ sort of differences in other people. A little girl who walked with assistance or talked like a much younger child was doomed to be scrutinized. But the same went for a girl who refused to wear Jasmine dresses or Belle tiaras, or chose Superman as their outfit for Halloween.

Suddenly, a loud bass started to sound from the living room. Meredith jumped at the unexpected sound, but the noise only went on for a few seconds before the volume was turned down. They could clearly hear the tunes of Duran Duran though, the Spotify search Meredith had done only yesterday when she was having an hour to herself.

"What are they up to?" Derek frowned and made his way over to the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room. Meredith followed and they both peeked in to see what all the commotion was about.

Josie was curled up in the end of the couch. She had her legs drawn up against her chest and her head down, but she had raised her eyes to look at her sister. Jennie was making her way over the floor. Without seeing her parents, she held out her hand to Josie.

"What?" Josie said reluctantly, but when Jennie pulled at her hands, she sighed and let herself be dragged up on her feet.

Jennie took both Josie's hands in hers, and started to move in rhythm to the music. For a little while, they just stood eye to eye, swaying. Jennie smiled, but Josie looked a little tentative. It wasn't until Jennie started to live it up a tad, moving her arms a little wider and rock her lower body a little wilder, that she returned a little smile.

Meredith, although touched by the tender scene, stood with her heart in her mouth, ready to step in the very moment Jennie's balance would falter. But she hadn't needed to worry. Josie soon shifted her grip, so that she held Jennie like she must at some point have seen Derek hold her, with her right hand in Jennie's left and her other hand around her waist. When Jennie didn't immediately placed her hand right, she stopped momentarily and patiently placed her other hand on her own shoulder. Jennie looked eagerly on Josie.

"Up," she said, gesticulating towards Josie's feet.

Josie hesitated, but then helped her sister stepping up on the top of her feet, like Derek had done with them both several times. Jennie giggled when she started to sway from side to side with her on top. Soon, the music increased in rhythm, and Jennie looked expectantly at her sister.

"Ah-st," she instructed. Josie nodded and took a better grip on her waist. Jennie squealed with laughter as she lifted her up in the air and started twirling them around the living room floor, and of the earlier reservation in Josie's face was nothing left anymore.

When the Spotify tune faded out, though, Josie's smile did too and she let Jennie down on the ground and put her cheek to her shoulder, sighing a little. Jennie stopped dancing around, and for ten seconds or so, they stood still, only swaying minimally to the last notes of the song. Then Jennie loosened herself from Josie's grip. She leaned a little backwards and inspected her sister.

"All eh-dder?" she asked and nodded hopefully.

Josie smiled weakly.

"Yeah," she replied and watched Jennie brighten. "You made it all better."

An hour later, when Derek had turned off the T.V., and they both had been saying goodnight to Jennie in her room, Meredith had gone in to Josie's room. She used to stay up for a bit longer than Jennie, especially on weekends, but tonight, she'd been lying in her bed already when Meredith entered. She'd begged her to lie down with her, complaining of another tummy ache.

"What did you do at the party?" Meredith asked softly, stroking her hair out of her eyes, threading a bit carefully because she sensed that maybe something wasn't quite as it should be tonight. She wasn't sure if it was Josie's a little odd behavior earlier, or the fact that she's complained of a tummy ache for the second time today that did it.

"We colored and had cake," Josie said. "And danced and all girls were dressed up like princesses."

"Did you want to be one too?"

"No, princesses are silly," Josie repeated, just like when Meredith had asked her about it last time. "It's just pretend."

"Did Jennie have a good time too?" Meredith asked, choosing to skip going into how princesses in fact were a very real thing, because if you really thought about it, the whole concept was much more pretend than reality anyway.

"Erica and Hannah asked her to play house with them," Josie reported.

"That's great," Meredith smiled. "Did she like that?"

Even if Jennie seemed to have found her place in her preschool group, playing and making friends, there was always the concern about other children teasing her or treating her differently. Meredith was glad to hear that even at a party for little older kids, she was considered a worthy playmate.

Josie didn't reply for a few seconds, then looked up at Meredith and bit her lip.

"I'm not sure," she said quietly.

"Why not?" Meredith asked. "Jennie loves to play pretend with you."

"Yes, but then I let her be good stuff, like the doctor."

Meredith held back a smile because she knew that wasn't entirely true. Josie was very good at playing with her sister and had taught her a lot of role-playing that she didn't get naturally with other kids given her difficulties to converse like them. But she'd seen that Josie many times chose to role-play the 'better' role if she could, giving the smaller, more insignificant roles to her sister, where she had to instruct her what to do. Meredith had seemed nothing strange about that; Josie was three years older, that was what sisters did.

"But Erica and Hannah didn't?" she asked now, sensing that Josie was upset about the way this game had played out.

"No," Josie shook her head.

"Were they being mean?"

Josie hesitated briefly. "No."

"Were they making fun of her?"

"Not really," Josie decided.

Meredith turned a little in Josie's narrow bed so she would get a better look at her daughter. Frustration crept up her spine when she couldn't seem to get any real information out of her, even though she clearly had something on her mind. She wondered if it really was ok for her to press Josie like this, but she felt herself unable to stop.

"Josie, what happened?"

"They made her play the baby," Josie mumbled. "Erica was the dad and Hannah was the mom and they wanted Jennie to be the baby because she was the littlest."

"You don't think Jennie wanted to be the baby?"

"No, she didn't," Josie said. "She said she didn't, but they didn't listen to her. They said because she walks like a baby, she had to be one."

"Did they say anything else?" Meredith asked, distressed at the thought of Jennie being merely an icon in the girls' game rather than an active participator but trying not to sound anything but calm.

"That she didn't talk like other kids, too," Josie told her. "And when they played, they just asked her silly questions, like they thought she was a baby for real."

"What did Jennie say?"

"She didn't say so much but when she did, they didn't even hear her." Josie bit her lip again and leaned against Meredith as if she wanted her to hold her.

"Did you say something?" Meredith asked, grabbing Josie's hand and started rubbing it with her thumb.

Josie buried her head into her chest and shook her head. "I wanted to," she whispered. "But I didn't know what. And she wasn't sad, like, crying. And then you comed."

"That's ok, honey," Meredith said. "I know it's hard to say something. It's good that you're telling me this now. You know what I'd wanted to do?"

Josie shook her head. She was still lying with her face hidden, but Meredith could tell she was listening.

"I'd wanted to tell them that Jennie is just like any other four year old," Meredith said, doing her best to sound cheerful. "She does a lot of the same stuff they do. She loves to color, for example. And go swimming. And she plays Candyland whenever she gets a chance."

"And she likes to puzzle," Josie added. "And help cook. And eat ice cream!"

"That's right," Meredith smiled, looking down on her daughter who'd crawled up from her hiding spot and now was lying on her back, staring up in the ceiling. "Those things I'd have liked to tell those girls."

Josie shrugged. "Let's not talk anymore."

Meredith hesitated, not sure if there wasn't anything else to say, but decided to let go. She nodded, but didn't move for about ten minutes or so, when Josie's breaths had evened out and she felt limp against her. She knew Josie was processing what had happened on the party, and maybe other incidents like this that she'd kept to herself. Josie was around Jennie so much more than any of them were; she was bound to see more of Jennie's interaction with other kids than any of the adults caring for her could ever report.

Meredith had noticed Josie go quiet several times during the last couple of weeks, sometimes with no apparent reason but sometimes directly related to something Jennie said or did. She knew Josie must be figuring out how braces, wheelchairs and insufficient speech fit into the everyday that she knew of. How Jennie fit in. And herself, dealing with situations like today.

Meredith slowly untangled herself from Josie's sheets and got up from her bed. She let the turtle night light be lit like Josie wanted; she hated waking up in the middle of the night to a totally black room.

She was still trying to figure things out too. She hoped she had said the right words to Josie. Being put on the spot with questions that no one ever really taught you how to answer didn't use to sit well with her. Hard, cold, scientific facts were one thing. She could learn those things, be prepared. But having children, and a child that differed from other children in particular, had brought a lot of those other questions into her life. Like how to know if pushing Josie to talk was a burden or a relief to her. Or how to get her to stick up for Jennie in disputes like these. Or how to get other children to treat Jennie just like any other kid.

She crashed at the couch when she came into the living room, her hectic day and her children's need for attention finally catching up with her. Derek placed a glass of red wine at the table and sank down next to her and Meredith leaned against his chest, savoring the feeling of his warmth. Nights when he wasn't home to help her could sometimes be stressful, but despite that nagging feeling that something wasn't quite as it should with Jennie, she'd been happy to have her all to herself tonight.

"What are you thinking?" Derek nudged her a little. He looked pretty tired himself, and she guessed they as well would head for bed soon enough.

"Nothing," she said, smiling slightly and deciding to wait until morning to talk to him about what Josie had told her. "It's been a good night is all."

__A/N – Thanks for reading! Please leave me a comment and tell me what you thought. __


	4. It's easy to feel but it's harder to say

_A/N – Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad to see people thinks it's a fresh take and a fair portrayal of disability. Here comes chapter four, a couple of days later than planned thanks to a bachelorette party. It's longer than the previous parts, though (not sure if that's a good thing or not...). This chapter starts off a little bit like the last one, with scenes from Meredith and Derek's everyday life, but as it goes on, it's a start of the build up for what is gonna come in the rest of the story. Derek's the narrator again (I'm switching between them although there are more Meredith chapters). Happy reading! _

Derek stuffed his pager in his inner coat pocket and draped the coat over his arm. He looked around his office one last time before stepping out of it and locking the door. The elevator's lights blinked as he walked towards them but there were three people besides him that wanted in in addition to the caretaker with the hospital bed and he politely took a step back to wait for the next.

In his head, he quickly went over what they had in the fridge. It was only just past five, but he didn't feel up for stopping by the grocery store, or even to make a dinner more complicated than sandwiches or maybe pasta. He had a vague recollection of Meredith putting a box of macaroni and cheese in the cupboard after their last grocery shopping. Jennie would like that.

"Mark," he acknowledged when he stepped into the elevator.

"Derek," Mark nodded. "On your way home?"

"Yeah, finally. Just picking up the kids." He pressed the button for the entrance floor and leaned against the bar. "You're on call tonight?"

"Actually, I was gonna put in some work to my study. Figure I could use the time until I schedule the kids for checkups."

"Good luck," Derek grinned as the elevator came to a halt.

While Mark hadn't given up his experimental treatments for children with cleft palates, it had been a while since he'd thought about getting any research done himself. He kept up with the current research, mostly through neurosurgery journals and once in a while a conference; it came with the job and he had even tried out some new methods once they'd been established enough for his liking. He liked to feel secure in his O.R. Not experimenting, groping around in the dark, hoping – not knowing – what the right thing to do was.

The streets outside the hospital were crowded as usual at this time of the day. The newsagent opposite the parking lot was packed with people stopping for a paper or a pack of cigarettes on their way home from work. The small restaurant at the bottom floor had yet to open but he could see people moving inside, preparing for the night. Behind the shops, no less than three city buses slowly drove by the bus stop, stopping only fleetingly to leave or allow passengers on board. Derek made his way over the parking lot, started the SUV and turned left from the parking lot.

They'd looked at what felt like endless preschools for Jennie. As with Josie, they'd visited different schools and interviewed the staff to see what they had to offer. The choices were much more limited for Jennie, though. Not every preschool took in children with disabilities, and among those that did, they had to find one that would work with her in a way they felt comfortable with. They'd finally settled on the preschool that was part of the elementary school where Josie went to second grade. She'd had been going to that same preschool and they were already familiar with it and knew the teachers. It was pretty small, divided into three classrooms and with no more than 15 children in each. Jennie had come home after her first day and proudly announced that she was a Tiger, showing off a large printing of one that she'd carefully colored yellow and black.

They'd been offered an aide for her, and had after some hesitation accepted Sophie into their lives. The idea had been for her to assist Jennie in the daily activities she did and help her participate together with the other children. Pretty soon though, they discovered that Jennie happily dismissed her peers in favor for Sophie, so they'd had to make some changes in the way she worked with her. She'd started to phase out of Jennie's preschool hours until she eventually just kept around the school, helping other kids with special needs as well. Gradually, her schedule had also came to mean that she picked Jennie up after school the days where Meredith and Derek's schedules made it impossible for them to do it. She also stayed with Jennie at their house until either of them were off work those days and even spent time with both Jennie and Josie after hours if Meredith or Derek needed it. It was maybe not the absolute perfect solution, but it seemed to work well for Jennie and that was the most important thing.

She was loving preschool, particularly aftercare, and hardly wanted to go home. Many afternoons she was too busy playing with the other children to even acknowledge Derek if he came to pick her up and even though she normally wasn't a cranky child, she could throw tantrums if they didn't let her finish their games.

The concrete passageway that led to the entrance – thankfully no stairs – was a little wet after the drizzling rain earlier but the leaves had been raked off the ground. Derek pushed the door open and went over to the desk right before the large hallway where the children kept their belongings. There were still a lot of them, which meant that most children hadn't been picked up.

"Oh, Dr Shepherd, hello." Helen, the motherly teacher that usually sat behind the desk, stood up when she saw Derek. "Do you have a moment?"

"Of course," Derek said, a little surprised. He was used to being called in by teachers that wanted to talk about Josie whenever they met him, reporting her once again shying away from other kids, but Jennie rarely came up to discussion except for at IEP meetings or when they needed to make special arrangements regarding her care.

"I'm afraid we had a bit of a situation here earlier," Helen said a little apologetically. "I was modeling some Play-Doh with some of the children when Jennie walked up and tried to tell me something. She seemed eager and tried to explain herself fair enough but I'm afraid I failed to understand what she wanted. I asked her a couple of times, but when she still didn't get it through, she refused to try again. She seemed pretty upset and has been a little subdued since then."

Derek frowned. "Did you try talking to her later about it?"

"We tried that," Helen confirmed. "It didn't help though. I just wanted you to know in case she says something about it. If you find out what she wanted to say, we're happy to hear about it. We felt really bad that we couldn't interpret her."

"Ok," Derek said. "Thanks for telling me. Please let us know if there are incidents like these in the future too. It's always a worry her speech will cause her trouble."

"Oh, she's such a social child," Helen assured him. "She communicates very well with the others. They seem to understand her, sometimes better than we do. Although..."

"Yeah?" Derek said, frowning again.

"It's just... the last weeks, she's not been really herself," Helen said. She shrugged a little. "I can't really pinpoint it. She seems to get upset easier. She's not really as attentive as she uses to be. I can't explain it better than that. Is it something you've noticed as well?"

"Not really," Derek replied, trying to think back. Had Jennie behaved differently these last days? "I can't say."

"Maybe she has a cold coming," Helen suggested.

Derek nodded. "We'll keep an eye on her. Thanks for giving us the heads up."

As he entered the large play area where most kids were gathered during after-care, he stopped briefly to seek out Jennie. She was standing in the far corner. It seemed a little wobbly to Derek but she didn't hold on to anything to keep her balance so he guessed her braces worked well enough. A small group of children, maybe four or five, all of which seemed older or at least larger than her, were gathered in front of her. He took a few steps towards them, hesitating to interrupt them in their game, but then he heard them.

"Jennie, say 'doll'."

"Say 'candy'."

"Say 'backpack'."

The sight of his youngest daughter being surrounded by other children, laughing and playing like any little girl usually made him happy and relieved. He'd spent quite a time worrying about the days she would have to go out and make her way in the world. He wanted to keep her protected from the cruelty, the staring, the questions and the misunderstandings she was prone to experience with other children at some point and he knew Meredith did too. They were both very humble that everything had seemed to work smoothly so far.

So far.

For a moment, the voices faded. His vision blurred. The other kids grew to distorted proportions. But the paralysis only lasted a second. He took the remaining steps towards her.

"Say 'book', Jennie," a boy in a red Seahawks t-shirt asked, looking expectantly at her and grinned in advance, waiting to laugh at her garbled version of the word.

"Hey there," Derek said, surprised over that his voice seemed to hold a normal tone.

"Ah-ddy!" Jennie squealed when she looked up and saw him. The boy looked disappointed, but got out of Derek's way and the group scattered quickly.

Derek scooped up Jennie in his arms, holding her flush against his chest. She giggled a little but soon wriggled out of his grip. She seemed unfazed of what had just happened and reached for his hand to take him out to the hallway.

"Ah-ddy, I no-ed all my eht-ers oh-day," she told him proudly.

"You knew all your letters? That's great," Derek said distractedly, looking around to see if there was a teacher somewhere that he could talk to about what had just happened.

He felt strangely disconnected from the present. Blood was boiling inside of him and he realized it probably would be better if he took some time to calm down before saying anything he might regret later. Additionally, the need to just get out of here, get Jennie out of here, was oddly urgent. Yet, he still had to take the time to help Jennie get her special shoes off and her regular outdoor shoes on, something she was unable to do by herself. He tried to focus on the task and to get her jacket wrapped around her without making her think something was wrong.

Jennie waved happily to Helen when they walked past the entrance and Derek was reminded of their earlier conversation. It had been only about ten minutes but he remembered it distantly, like it had been days, maybe weeks. Even though what she told him had made him a little concerned, if not really upset, it was so shadowed by what he'd witnessed that he had to rack his brain to actually come up with what it was she had wanted to talk about.

He strapped Jennie into her booster seat, expertly folded the wheelchair and started driving in silence. Jennie chatted eagerly as usual though. He was glad she didn't seem to sense his mood.

"Ah-ddy, I go on veeh-ld ihp," she informed him, the glee in her voice unmistakable.

"A field trip? That sounds like a lot of fun," Derek commented, but his enthusiasm was only half-hearted. His mind was so busy going over what he'd seen that he only just remembered turning into the parking lot on the other side of the school instead of going right onto the highway.

"We oh-nt go oh-me?"

"We're picking up Josie from her guitar lesson," Derek replied. "I almost forgot."

"Ahn I do gee-tah?"

"Do you want to?" Derek asked. "We can try if you do. Or we could find you another instrument."

"Ahn I go simming?"

Derek turned to look at her as he slowed down and searched for a spot close to the building's front door where Josie hopefully would come out any minute. There was something in Jennie's way of looking at him that made him unsure of how to reply. She looked expectant, almost defiant, and he hesitated briefly.

Josie had never wanted to swim. They found notes in her school bag with information on sport clubs of different kinds in the beginning of every school year but she always said no. Derek thought she would make an excellent runner but she hadn't yet given in to his lobbying for a track team. Jennie had come home from preschool with some of those notes as well, but they'd never figured any of them to fit her. They'd actually discussed letting her swim, if nothing else as physical therapy to strengthen her body, but as far as he knew, they'd never talked to her about it.

"Well," he said slowly. "Yeah, maybe you could go swimming. Would you like that?"

"I not noh," Jennie said. Even though her voice didn't waver, something in her face told Derek that she hadn't been sure what kind of answer to expect, and now wasn't sure what to make of it. He waited for her to say something more, but she was silent and he decided that right now wasn't the time to prod her further.

"Here's Josie," he commented instead as he saw a small figure in a pink jacket perched on the large white-painted fence that surrounded the area. "How about we talk more later, ok?"

He dashed the honk lightly a few times and unlocked the door so that Josie could climb into the backseat next to her sister.

"All in?" he asked and blinked out of the parking lot when he saw her nod in the rear-view mirror. Once they were well out on the main road again, he pressed the gas pedal to gain a little speed. "How did your lesson go?"

"It was ok," Josie answered. "What are we having for dinner?"

"Hungry already?" Derek said and raised his eyebrows. "Didn't you have a snack this afternoon?"

He could see her turn her head and look out through the window instead of meeting his eye in the mirror. "No," she said quietly. When he didn't say anything, she bit her lip. "I went to my lesson early. I had to practice."

Derek knew Josie was eager to do well. If she felt she wasn't prepared enough, she was likely to go out of her way to make up for it. But that initial pause, almost unnoticeable, and the rush with which she'd said it, made him wonder if there was anything more to it than it should.

"Are you hungry too, Jen?" he asked, making the decision to push back any further investigation also on this until a better time. All his previous thought of making dinner had evaporated. Meredith wouldn't be home until after seven.

"No, Ah-ddy," Jennie said. "My eh-lly not good."

"Your belly's not good?" Derek said, a little taken aback. "Do you feel sick? Like you will throw up?"

"No," Jennie shook her head.

"You're just not hungry? You're sure?"

"Yeah, Ah-ddy."

"Ok," Derek said, frowning a little. He thought of what Helen had said, and scrutinized Jennie in the rear-view mirror. Maybe she was getting sick after all. "I don't know if we have a lot of food at home," he went on. "What do you say we stop by for some take-out tonight? You could eat as much as you want to, Jen. Maybe you'll get hungry once the food's on the table."

"Can we have McDonald's?" Josie said with big eyes.

Even though Derek and Meredith worked what sometimes felt like endless hours and often were almost too tired to stand on their feet at the end of the day, their children weren't spoiled with take-out menus. Somehow they managed to get by with scraping together dinner most of the nights, and if he had a day off and no urgent matters, Derek tried to take a few hours to cook dinners that would allow them to just heat a box the following week.

"Is that ok?" Derek asked Jennie. "Ok," he agreed when she nodded happily. "McDonald's it is then."

His first plan had been to merely pass by the drive-in and eat at home, but as he turned into the McDonald's on 14th Avenue, the parking lot only sported a few cars and he thought of the relief not to bother with a messy kitchen before he had to make the children ready for bed.

"Chair?" he asked Jennie as he helped her out of the car, but he wasn't surprised when she shook her head. He hoisted her up on his hip and started walking towards the restaurant, silently happy he didn't need to mess with unfolding the chair. For six o'clock a Wednesday afternoon, the tables were surprisingly empty and only a couple of families were spread out. Some kids were bouncing in the ball room and a few were running around but most were sitting down with their parents.

"Two happy meals and a Big Mac with fries," he ordered from the teenage girl over the counter and let Jennie down on the ground, making sure she was steady before he let go of her.

"Right away," she smiled. "What for drinks?"

"Coke," Josie whispered.

"And for you?" the girl asked Jennie.

"Aph-ehl ooh-s," she decided. She had to look up in a strange angle to see anything over the counter as she couldn't stand on the tip of her toes to get any taller.

"I'm sorry?" the girl said, her smile faltering a little.

"Aph-ehl ooh-s," Jennie repeated, taking a step backwards to get a better view, almost tripping in the process. Derek put his hands under her arms just in time to steady her.

"Easy," he told her, and then looked up at the waitress with Jennie still in his arms. "I'll have the same. Two apple juice."

"Apple juice," she confirmed, putting two bottles on the counter and filled a soda cup with coke for Josie. "The burgers will take about a minute."

Derek asked Josie to go pick up some napkins and straws and some ketchup if she wanted it and took Jennie to the remaining table by the window. He pondered if he should talk to her about that incident at preschool, but dismissed the idea. He wanted so desperately for his daughter to keep the confidence she had in herself just now, playing and going on about her life as any child. He and Meredith had both been aware of her speech problems ever since she didn't start to talk as she was expected to. They'd been telling themselves that all the infections and spinal treatments had given her a bad start and that she was entitled to some time to keep up with other children. But at four, they couldn't deny that her speech was causing her problems. And he hated that he was so unsure of how to handle it. He hoped he'd maintained her self-esteem by not letting the waitress ask one more time, but he didn't know if needing her father to answer for her might have the opposite effect.

"Is Ah-mmy oh-nna eat?" Jennie asked him. She was sipping her juice that he'd poured in a cup for her, seemingly not at all occupied with the same thoughts as he was. She didn't look any worse for wear either, and she wasn't hot to the touch.

"She's off at seven," he replied. "I don't know if she's gonna eat before she comes home, though." He cast a glance towards the counter and saw their order being called out for them. "There are our burgers," he told Jennie. "You sit here while I go get them."

He nodded thanks to the girl behind the counter as she handed him the little basket with his burger and the two cartoons with happy meals. He hoped the little toys inside would be a tad better than last time they ate here. Although Jennie had been perfectly happy to play the thirty minutes they'd been eating with the little Barbie look-alike in her box, Josie had thrown hers away disappointedly.

"Sir, I think your- "

"Daddy!"

The sudden yelp made him turn quickly but though he darted forward at the mere sight of Jennie trying to climb out of her chair, he could only watch as she lost her grip and fell headlong against the table leg.

The world seemed to stop for a second before the high-wailed pitch of Jennie's cries punctured the silence and Derek took the remaining steps towards the table, squatting down to where she was lying face down. He gripped her waist and carefully pulled her out from under the table, and in one sweeping motion he sat down on his chair with her cradled in his lap. She was wailing incessantly, only stopping once in a while to catch her breath before taking off again.

Derek traveled his hands all over her body, trying to feel for anything that seemed broken but Jennie didn't react on his touch. He was especially careful with her legs, knowing that her decreased sensation could made a hit less obvious, but from what he could gather, they seemed fine too. Her face spoke of the fall though. Out of the three neat spots where the table leg had met her face, the one on her forehead had already began forming a bump and the ones on her chin and cheek were red and showed signs of swelling.

Derek stood and walked up to the counter, supporting Jennie with his left hand and letting his right rest on her back for comfort.

"Could we have some ice for her face?" he asked the girl that wasn't occupied with the family to his right and motioned to Jennie.

"Of course," she said willingly. "Would you like a new burger, sir?" she added as she swept some ice cubes into a thin towel.

"What? Oh, right," Derek replied and glanced behind him where the food he'd been carrying now lay strewn over the floor like forgotten toys. "Yeah. Yeah, that would be good. Thanks."

"I'll be right out with it," the girl told him and reached him the icepack she'd prepared.

Derek returned to their table and gingerly sat down with Jennie still clutching at his waist with her knees. She had finally started to calm down a little. Her wails had transformed into loud sobs and he could feel her respond to his soothing motions.

"Breathe," he instructed her gently. "Can you take deep breaths for Daddy?"

"Ah-ddy, I felled," Jennie sobbed against his neck.

"Yeah, you did," Derek agreed. "I bet it hurt a bit, didn't it?"

"I uh-rt," Jennie whimpered. She rubbed her eyes and leaned heavily against Derek's chest, but let go of her suffocating clutch at his t-shirt. He guessed that part of her cries originated from shock in addition to the physical pain the fall had caused her

"You got scared too, huh, Bug?" he asked. "It's ok, though. Daddy's got you. You're ok. Let's put some ice on your face or Mommy will be really scared when she sees you." He gripped her under the armpits and sat her more upright so that she was facing him and gingerly placed the ice pack against her bruises.

"Here you go, sir." The young waitress placed a new burger in front of him and put down the two children's boxes that he'd also dropped in his haste. "I think your happy meals will be fine. Is your daughter feeling better?"

"She'll be fine, thank you" Derek replied. "Jennie," he went on, turning to the girl in his lap. "Do you want your burger?" He wasn't surprised when she shook her head tiredly. He wouldn't feel much like eating either after a scarce like that. He just hoped it wouldn't turn out to be a concussion, but there was no way to tell already. They could take her meal home for her to have later if she felt like it. "Ok, how about some ice cream?" he prodded. "Would you like that?"

There was a short pause, but then Jennie nodded.

She ate her ice cream still sitting in his lap, taking slow scoops with the spoon and letting out some suppressed sniffles every now and then, just to let Derek know she hadn't forgotten what had happened.

Back home a rough twenty minutes later, Derek put Jennie's happy meal in the fridge and went into the bathroom to run her a bath. Jennie still enjoyed sitting down in the tub while Meredith or Derek shampooed her hair and helped her wash her legs and feet. He hoped it would be a while before she insisted on doing it herself or they would probably have to get a handle installed and a rubber mat in place; maybe a shower chair too. He'd instructed Josie to get started on her homework while he got Jennie ready for bed. Meredith would be home any minute, he hoped, and the thought filled him with relief.

They'd stayed at the restaurant until Josie had swallowed the last piece of her meal and Jennie had declared she didn't want more of the ice cream. None of them had wanted to go play in the ball room and Derek hadn't put any effort in making them. Some of the kids had passed by their table and looked at Jennie where she sat curled up in his lap, but unlike many other times, he didn't get the feeling they were looking because she was different but merely on the basis that she'd just had a major meltdown in front of all the other guests.

He'd just finished scrubbing the shampoo into Jennie's hair when he heard the front door open and close and footsteps in the hallway.

"Who could that be?" he said, winking at Jennie where she sat in the tub, scooping small handfuls of water onto her legs and watching it lead the white foam from the shampoo to the drain.

"Ah-mmy!" she giggled.

"I bet you're right," Derek said. "In here," he called out for Meredith to hear and just a minute later, she stuck her head in the bathroom door.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied, turning around with wet, soapy hands and gave her a quick smile. "We're almost done here."

"Ah-mmy, I felled," Jennie told her, still occupied with what had happened and eager to tell Meredith.

"You fell?" Meredith repeated. "Where?" She got closer to the tub and placed a towel on the floor to not soak her jeans completely before kneeling in front of it just like Derek. Jennie's hair was slicked back from the water and the glistening drops did nothing to hide the marks on her face. "That doesn't look good," she said with a frown, reaching forward and softly touching her daughter's forehead. "What happened?"

"I felled in Ah-ohn-dahls."

"McDonald's," Derek supplied for Meredith who looked at him with raised eyebrows. "I took them there this afternoon. She lost her grip when she was climbing down from her chair."

"Is she ok?" Meredith asked concerned. "No concussion?"

"She actually said she felt a little sick to her stomach, but that was before," he replied. "She shows no signs of it now. No headache, no nausea, not yet anyway. I think her face, not head, took most of the hit."

"Jennie," Meredith said sympathetically. "You ok? You must have been scared."

"Ah-mmy, I tied," Jennie admitted. "Eh-caush it uhrt-ed."

"I think I would have cried too," Meredith said.

"Did you eat?" Derek asked her.

"I grabbed a sandwich before I left," she shrugged. "Could do with something more, though."

"Jennie, what do you say Mommy takes over getting you ready and then we both come say goodnight?" Derek suggested. "I go see if I can scrape something together for you," he added to Meredith.

She nodded absently, already immersed in the task of rinsing out the shampoo from Jennie's hair, having stripped off her cardigan and rolled up the sleeves of her long t-shirt she wore underneath. Derek smiled at the sight of mother and daughter, so wrapped up in their conversation that they hardly noticed when he left.

He went towards the kitchen to see for himself what really was in the fridge, stopping briefly to check in on Josie. She was hunching over her desk, concentrated on writing on a piece of paper, while some kind of pop music lingered somewhere in the background.

"Everything ok?" Derek asked. "What are you writing?"

"Health science," she said without looking up from her paper. "I'm drawing a human. We need to learn where the organs go."

"Well, that sounds like fun," Derek chuckled. "It's bedtime soon, but if you come with me to the kitchen, I can quiz you."

She hesitated, but only for a moment, before picking up her books and followed him out of her room. Derek opened the refrigerator and inspected the shelves. They were out of pretty much everything except the things they needed for breakfast and, if he was lucky, tomorrow's lunch for the children. He brought out some bread, peanut butter and an old jar of jam that he sniffed suspiciously before letting it pass and started putting together slices for two lunch boxes.

"Ok, so where do you have the heart?" he asked. Josie had sat down at the kitchen table and returned to her job of coloring the anatomy sketch he knew well from his own schooldays.

"In the chest," she replied without stopping the crayon's motion over the paper. "On the left side."

"That's right," Derek said. "And what organs do we have in our stomach?"

He picked out the lunch boxes resting in the dish rack, the ones that he'd washed yesterday and hadn't had the time to put away since. Josie's was red, lined with small mice and he put down two of the sandwiches in it together with a small bag of chips.

"The liver," he prodded when Josie kept chewing at her pen without answering.

"The liver... and the kidneys. And the bowel and the spleen."

"Yeah," Derek said. "What about the brain? To what do we use it?" He took out a carrot from the vegetable box in the fridge and started cutting it in small sticks to go with the rest of it. He repeated the procedure with the yellow box that was Jennie's and put them both in the fridge overnight.

"To think," Josie said confidently. "To know things. And to imagine."

"That we do," Derek agreed. "But the brain also controls how we speak, and see, and hear, and even breathe. It's a very important organ."

They went through some more of the mystery that was the anatomy of the human body while he prepared an omelet for Meredith to eat when the bedtime routine was over. When he finished, and declared to Josie that she would ace her test, they both went towards the inner part of the house. The soft talking and rummaging that had provided background noise for the last twenty minutes had quieted and the light was off in the bathroom.

They went into the master bedroom and found Jennie lying in bed, curled up against Meredith who looked up at them a little apologetically. The covers weren't really pulled up and Derek could see that Jennie's hair was still a little damp but she was asleep nonetheless.

"Seems like there will be no story today," he commented quietly, as to not disturb her.

"Sorry," Meredith whispered. "I guess she was worn out after what happened earlier." She looked at Josie, who bit her lip and tried not to show her disappointment. "Come here. Even if there's no story doesn't mean we can't have our goodnight time, right?"

Derek smiled and scooped up his youngest daughter gently into his arms and carried her down to the bed in her own room. He kissed her lightly at the cheek, observing that she was still cool to the touch, as he put her down and made sure she was well tucked in. He never stopped to amaze over how much she looked like Meredith. Josie had dark curls that gave her away as his, but Jennie's hair was strawberry blond with bangs that always seemed to get in her eyes. Even though he hadn't seen many pictures of Meredith as a little girl, this was totally how he imagined her.

Where she lay now, on her back with her mouth slightly open and her eyes closed, she looked like any little girl. And in so many ways, she also was the typical little girl that ran around with her friends, giggling and sharing secrets; the obnoxious four-year old that refused to pick up her toys; the tooth-less preschooler that chatted his ear off on the way home and had her hand warm in his.

But the people they met would never understand how much effort it took them to get her there. They would never appreciate the hours of walking training it took for her to actually walk by herself at all. They would never think of the endless appointments she had with her speech therapists and the word games and creative exercises he and Meredith had had to invent to make the sounds come.

No, he never stopped to amaze over his daughter, whose happy self and light demeanor made up so much for the fact that she not quite functioned like other kids. And yet, despite all their efforts, there were kids who didn't seem to get past the wheelchair, or the wobbly walking, or the inarticulate speech. That made her the butt of their jokes.

He returned to the bedroom to find Meredith and Josie engaged in what most of all looked like a hairdressing appointment. Josie sat cross-legged at his side of the bed and let Meredith braid her still wet hair in what he assumed would be a lot of thin thin twists. She was only at the fourth or fifth of them yet, choosing to tie them with whatever she could find in a large box of various accessories he recognized from the bathroom.

"What are you thinking?" Meredith asked softly as she rummaged through the box and picked out a tiny red elastic with her left hand while she held on to the braid with her right.

"Do you think I should be a doctor when I grow up?" Josie asked after a second's silence. She said it a bit hesitantly, as if she wasn't at all sure of what Meredith would think.

Derek could tell by the way her hand momentarily stopped mid-air that Meredith was a little taken aback by the question. He surely was. He'd never heard her talk about what she wanted to do after school and certainly not plans that involved medical school. Sure, they'd bought her doctor kits and she'd happily taken their blood pressures and made her stuffed animals lie patiently on her O.R. table under her plastic scalpel and with gauze bandages around their heads or legs. And hospitals were probably the environment apart from school or their house she was most familiar with. Still, he listened eagerly to hear what Meredith's reply would be.

"Well," she replied slowly. "Do you want to be a doctor?"

"I don't know."

"You don't have to," Meredith assured her. "It's a decision far ahead."

"When did you know? That you would be a doctor?"

Meredith paused and seemed to gather her thoughts. She tied another braid with yet an elastic, thicker this time and black, and carefully threaded through Josie's hair to find the right amount of strands to form the next one.

"It might have been when I got my first real suture kit," she said. "I was a couple of years older than you are now. I used it on everything I could." She laughed softly. "Even on myself."

"That's when you knew?" Josie asked astonished, as if she couldn't believe that such a little thing could be what decided your future.

"It wasn't that easy," Meredith smiled. "You know grandma was a doctor too? She made sure surgery was in my blood. She wanted me to be great, like her. And I guessed I kind of wanted that too. But it was a long road to actually get there."

Derek listened with a wistful smile where he stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame but still unseen by the two of them. Meredith had only told him about her mother and her childhood in fragments, little by little as though something bad would happen if she spoke too much of it. Even though he not for a second imagined that he'd heard everything, the pieces she'd given him told him she'd skipped quite a few this time.

"Tell me about grandma," Josie begged where she sat, her head turned from both him and Meredith. She let her right elbow rest on her knee and put her chin in her palm, getting ready for a good story.

Meredith hadn't spoken much of Ellis with neither Josie nor Jennie from what he knew. Knowing that she passed away years before they were born and having been sick even before that, they had never really asked. They'd met Thatcher; even seen him, if not often so quite regularly on Christmas or Thanksgiving or maybe an Easter holiday, but as far as he knew, the complicated weaves that were the Grey family were still unheard of.

"What do you want to know?" Meredith asked, a little apprehensive, like she could be tricked into revealing some of the memories she'd worked so hard on burying.

"Anything," Josie replied. "You know. What she was like. What you did."

"Oh."

However willingly Derek would have stayed in the doorway, hearing Meredith passing on stories from her own childhood to her daughter, he didn't make his presence known. Instead, he retreated from their bedroom and walked out to the living room that looked like it hadn't been cleaned up for a few days. Mother to daughter. Daughter to mother. There was something intimate in that, almost ritual. Something he guessed Meredith could need more than most but also something that he would have felt like an intruder listening uninvited to.

He picked up some of the strewn clothes and books and placed them in the bookcase they used for toys and paperworks and all those things that needed to be tucked away at the end of the day. Then he went out in the kitchen, poked a little on Meredith's omelet that still lay in its saucepan and put it on a plate for her. He'd just filled the boiler with water when a familiar beep broke the silence. Frowning, he switched the boiler on and went out to get his pager in his coat. He'd left early, hadn't had any complicated procedures today. The craniotomy he'd performed had gone by the book and after that, he'd mostly filed some of his paperwork and made a few calls that had been long due.

He took out his cell phone and quickly dialed the number that was flashing over the little screen of his pager. Luckily, the resident on call only wanted to know if she was supposed to raise his patient's ordered dose of morphine, he seemed to need it? Derek asked a few questions and then adjusted his ordination slightly before telling the resident to call if the patient seemed to get worse.

When he returned to the kitchen, the red light on the boiler indicated that the water was hot and he sat down at the table with two cups, one for him and one for Meredith. Putting a tea-bag in the mug, he lifted it and watched the water slowly take the color of that strange glowing between red and brown that he'd hardly seen anywhere else. The warmth sipped out from the steady pottery and soon he had to set it down again. When he looked up, Meredith was standing in the doorway, looking tired but not exhausted. She smiled at him and sat down at the other side of the table.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied softly, placing the other mug before her and poured a few drops of milk into his own before handing the carton to her.

"Both children down," she said and Derek glanced at the clock. A little over nine. In other words, it had gone pretty smoothly counting from when they got home. "The toilet routine was a close call today."

"It was?" Derek sighed. "She's seemed good for a while now."

"Yeah, we managed today too," Meredith assured him. "We're lucky she takes care of it pretty good herself. But I won't think of what will happen if she gets scared of going in there."

"Some more soap bubbles," Derek said with a wry smile and got a slight smile in return.

Jennie's bladder incontinence had the first years been handled with medication, pads and adjusted clothing. Recently, she'd been provided with a catheter and she still needed help draining it intermittently. They also had to help her regulating her antispasmodics. Helping her controlling her bowels had proved a more difficult task. They'd potty trained her in the most normal way they could when she still was a toddler by keeping track of her bowel movements and letting her go to the potty regularly so that she would learn. There had been more failures than successes, though, and when she was two, she was admitted to a bowel management program. Over time, they'd learned the best combination of fiber rich foods, fluids and medication to best suit Jennie. Still, her daily enemas included, the toilet visits could easily last over half an hour at nights, and Meredith had had to be inventive when it came to motivate Jennie. After a couple of occasions of desperate cries and resolute refusals, she'd arranged story times in a bathroom bordered by lighted candles and soap bubble bottles to balance up the stressfulness of those visits.

He knew Meredith would never have pictured herself doing that before they had children. He guessed there was a lot she wouldn't have seen herself doing that she now did with a confidence that matched her skills in the O.R; it was the same for him. And it wasn't just the routines they had to come up with to handle the special care Jennie needed. Also the mundane things of parenthood had surprised him; playing dress-up and having parties with all the teddy bears, explaining why the water is blue or be creative enough to make them eat, or sleep, or make ready for school.

Meredith had been insecure the first times with both children. With Josie, everything was new. She'd worried about every little thing, and even though issues like feeding or sleeping or high fevers were things that nagged his mind too, she spent a lot of time worrying that she wasn't enough. That she couldn't be a good enough mom. That Ellis had screwed her up too bad to ever be worthy of being someone's mom. It had actually taken him time to understand what was going on in her head every time Josie chose him over her for the goodnight story. Or when she had to call him in the middle of a surgery that had dragged out on time and ask him to get the baby. Or when any of them begged for her attention when she was too tired not to snap. Things that happened. Things that he did, too, without reflecting more than briefly over them.

With Jennie, it had been a whole new set of worries. He'd been looking forward to having a new baby; someone that they could take care of with the confidence of already having had a first one. Already before she was born though, both of them had been thrown into a loop of sorrow, denial, hope and doubts. Even if looking back, Jennie had been an easier kid than they had first dared to hope, she'd never become that second baby they'd expected; the one they could relax with, knowing how things would fare.

It had become better, though. Meredith had grown with each little victory and he liked to think he had too. He hoped she knew that she was a great mother. He'd told her, on several occasions, but he really didn't know how much of it really got to her. He'd felt resentment towards Ellis for so long for making Meredith this messed up, but it happened that he wondered if he should be grateful instead. Given, Meredith had been very apprehensive of even the idea of having children, but sometimes he thought that the crappy parenting she'd been subjected to only made her more determined than most to make it right this time. He'd never in the time since Josie was born doubted that his children weren't safe with her. That she wouldn't give everything.

"Did everything go down ok today?" Her tone was light but she'd been studying him over the table while taking bites of her omelet.

Derek shrugged and Meredith frowned, locking her eyes with him over her plate. He took a sip from his mug. The tea was now almost lukewarm but he gripped its edges anyway, wondering how to tell her what he'd seen.

"What?" Meredith asked, having stopped eating and watched him expectantly. "You said before she'd been feeling sick?"

"Yeah," Derek replied. "Did she seem tired to you tonight?"

"Maybe a little," Meredith said. "I didn't think much of it though. But coming to think of it, she might have seemed a little listless for a few days. Do you think she's getting sick?"

"It's possible," he said. "They said she's not been herself at preschool lately. I was a little concerned, but then I forgot it when she fell down like that."

"Yeah," she said, reaching out her hand and touching his. "That must have been scary. Is that what's bothering you?" She intertwined her fingers with his and waited for him to answer. When he didn't right away, she tilted her head. "What's wrong?" she pressed.

He looked at her, at the concern etching her features. He knew they needed to share this. But it was so damned hard to get those words out, to admit that your little girl was hurting, that neither of them longer could protect her wherever she went. They already felt helpless with Josie for the way she went through the world, unsure and often alone, but somehow this was different. This was what they secretly always had feared, but had convinced themselves wouldn't happen because their youngest daughter was so happy, so lively and made friends so easily. He hesitated to tell Meredith that he'd seen the trailer to the horror movie they most of all never would want to see.

"They make fun of her," he said flatly at last. "Those older kids at her preschool. They have her say words and then laugh at the way she says them."

It didn't exactly make him feel better to express what he'd witnessed, but somehow letting Meredith know was better than carrying it around by himself. As soon as he'd told her, she'd gripped his hand and leaned forward over the table. She didn't look sad. He wasn't sure if he'd expected her to tear up exactly, but she rather looked defiant. Her mouth had become a thin line and she set down her fork with an empathic thud.

"How did you find out?"

He blinked, a little surprised over her question but recognizing her need of focusing on the practical details. That's why she had been such a sharp tool in surgery even since her residency; she could be a compassionate enough doctor but she seldom let her emotions get in the way.

"Did you see it?" she prodded. "Did Jennie tell you?"

"No, I saw it," he said. "Jennie hasn't said anything about it. She didn't seem upset."

"You didn't spoke to her about it afterwards?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "Did you at least talk to any of the teachers?"

"Neither," he replied. "I wanted to talk to you first."

"Ok," she sighed. "I guess that's where we start, then."

"Helen told me there'd been a situation too." He rubbed his chin and looked tiredly at her. "Some misunderstanding; they hadn't been able to get what she meant. That upset her, after what Helen said."

"It's starting to impact her," Meredith said quietly. "Her speech."

He nodded. In that moment, she looked not so much like the young woman he'd fallen in love with or even the one he'd married a couple of years later. She had the look he'd seen many times during the years since they had their children. When there were just the two of them, she could still be his wife, his lover, and his best friend. When it came to their children, though, she was their mother and that was what he saw in her face now. That layer of worry that he knew lay just beneath the surface pretty much all the time seemed to have manifested itself on her features, like she realized that this was it. Though she'd known, and somehow prepared for, that this time could come, she'd never really stopped nurturing the hope that it wouldn't.

"Maybe," he began, and cleared his throat, "maybe she doesn't see it the way we do now. To her, this is not cruelty. She's just the kid that can make them laugh and that's a good thing."

Meredith bit her lip and nodded. He could see she wanted to believe in that, yet that she couldn't, not really. He was glad he hadn't called her in the middle of her shift to talk to her, something he'd seriously contemplated. Like she couldn't have been there for him, he couldn't have been there for her either. But now he could.

"There's something wrong." Her simple statement and the determination in her voice wasn't what he expected but he immediately knew what she meant.

"It is," he sighed. "We've known for a while, haven't we?"

"I don't get how the speech therapists don't agree," she murmured. "They must see their work has no progress. She learns more when we talk to her at home than she ever shows after her visits there."

"Spina bifida," he said and shook her head. "It doesn't add up." He felt a little stupid saying again what they'd been mulling over in endless discussion before because they'd already considered it and concluded just that.

"I know," Meredith replied, that determination still present in her voice. "What do we do?"

"Should we talk to Jennie about it?"

"I don't know," she said hesitantly and kept quiet for some moments. "I don't want us to make a big deal out of this if she doesn't. But..."

"We want to stop it before she does," he interjected.

"Yeah."

He knew she feared for the same things he did. Jennie may not see beyond like they did now. But would she, after a while? Would she ever remember it? Derek couldn't really recall much from his own early childhood, but he guessed that what he experienced then must have left some kind of print with him, somewhere. What would this do for the self image they tried to help her build?

"I'll call the teachers tomorrow," he told Meredith. "Tell them to keep an eye open for situations like this. I'll talk to Sophie as well."

"That's good," she nodded. "But, Derek, that's not only what I meant." She was silent for a moment and Derek saw that she was trying to collect her thoughts and express that thing that she really thought of.

"I know," he simply said. "We need help with this."

They quieted again. This whole situation felt familiar. They'd been in this position before; wobbling, unsure, fumbling for answers, but really too pressed by time to be any of it for very long. It seemed like each new phase with Jennie was preceded by additional challenges, like her life was a never-ending riddle they had to solve as they went. And even though they were both neurosurgeons and Jennie's diagnosis tangled on their own expertise, they were parents first. It had pained to realize they didn't have all the answers. All they really could offer each other was a hand for the other to hold; a shared burden, the unspoken assurance that they weren't alone in this.

Meredith put her mug down at the table. Standing up, she walked over to the sink and rinsed it. Derek followed, placing himself next to her so that they were both leaning against the kitchen counter but facing each other. The fierce expression she'd worn earlier had faded and now she mostly look tired. He felt the urge to kiss her, to somehow make up for what he'd caused her by telling her, but he shook that need, feeling that their discussion wasn't finished.

"So how do we proceed?" he pressed, wincing a little of how strictly professional he sounded, like their daughter were just another case at the hospital and he needed her consult. Meredith didn't seem to notice though.

"I'll ask for an evaluation of her," she volunteered. "I know we've been talking about it before and that the waiting lists are ridiculous, but I think I could call in a few favors."

He nodded, not entirely satisfied that they were finding themselves with more questions rather than less, but grateful that they at least had staked out some kind of plan, even if it mostly consisted of uncertain factors like other people.

"Derek?"

He looked at her. She was reaching out her hand, her lips parted in an ever so slight smile that really didn't reach her eyes but told him that she was trying to believe that everything was going to be ok eventually.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this today", she whispered. "We're gonna figure this out."

"Ok," he agreed, tiredness suddenly coming crashing down on him. "Ok," he repeated, taking her hand and squeezing her hand, trying to mediate that he appreciated her silent support.

_A/N – So as the incidents keep piling up, Meredith and Derek are starting to realize they can't wait any longer for Jennie's speech issues to solve themselves. They have to act. The question is, what kind of answers will they get once they dig deeper? What do you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	5. Things ain't bad but things ain't right

_A/N – I'm back with the next chapter! I'm happy you all seem to like the last one. It's one of my favorites, but I hope you'll like the further chapters as well. So, in this and in the next one, things are shaping up for a turn in the story. The second draft for this story actually took its point of departure in a version of this chapter, but since then, there have been many changes. I struggled with rewriting bits of it just now, but I hope I got it down ok. Well, just read on and see for yourselves. And please, tell me afterwards! :-) _

Meredith sighed and looked impatiently over the shoulder of the older lady in front of her to see where Derek had taken the girls. She was standing at the end of the line in the children's store, which was so long that she didn't even see the counter. During the time she'd been standing there, Josie had been by three times to show her one thing or another she wanted that wasn't on Meredith's list, but right now, she couldn't see neither her nor Jennie anywhere.

She looked down at the note in her hand. It was wrinkled and almost unreadable by now and she knew it by heart anyway, but she kept referring to it in some kind of effort to get it exactly right. They had had lunch at a small bistro in the heart of the mall and even if the children mostly had picked their food, much more interested in the pie eating contest in the corner, they yet had to wail about being hungry.

She cast a glance at her wrist watch. It was starting to get time to help Jennie go to the bathroom. They'd brought the equipment they needed, but she pondered where the closest restroom might be.

Jennie had been pretty quiet the whole day and even though she'd refused to bring either the wheelchair or the walker inside the mall – Derek had insisted on putting them in the car when they went – Meredith suspected walking and standing for hours was wearing her out.

"Ah-ddy," she'd whined for the third time, dragging out the last syllable for as long as she could. She'd pulled his sleeve with her left hand, her right one clutching the little bag with the two story books that she'd chosen by herself from the book store just minutes before.

"Jennie, please don't pull at my sleeve," Derek had said. "Do you want to go to the toy store?"

"Ah-ddy," she'd repeated, shaking her head no to his suggestion. "Ah-ddy, ih-ft me?"

"I can't do that right here," Derek had replied. "I have two bags in my hands, right? Are you tired? Do you want me to get your chair?"

"Ah-ddy," Jennie had tried again, not answering the question.

"Jennie," Derek had sighed. "What is it?"

"Ih-ft me?" she'd asked, biting her lip and stretching both her arms up for him.

"Do you want your chair?" Derek had asked again. "I can't carry you around in here. Either we get your chair or you walk on your own."

"I oh-nt want," Jennie had declared, banging her fist on her thigh and put forward her lower lip.

"Jennie," Derek had warned, putting the bags down and crouched down on the floor so that he came eye to eye with her. "You heard me. Why don't you tell me what's the matter?"

"No," she'd wailed, angrily rubbing her fists in her eyes to stop the tears at bay.

The argument had lasted for another two minutes and ended with Derek resolutely taking Jennie's hand and starting walking towards the children's store. Jennie had quieted once she caught sight of the enormous shelves with dolls, games and, best of all, stuffed animals in all possible shapes and sizes. Her interest had been short-lived though and she poked half-heartedly at some picture books before walking up to Meredith where she stood in the line. Her face was all red and scrunched up like she would start crying any moment. She stretched her arms at Meredith and tugged at the hem of her shirt.

"Ah-mmy," she whimpered, her voice wavering dangerously. "Up!"

Meredith sighed and placed her basket on the floor before giving in and lifting Jennie up. She'd been tiny since birth; was still on the bottom end of her age percentile and pretty easy in her arms. She knew Derek had thought Jennie was too big for being carried around out in public, but she also knew it was unlike her to be this persistent about something she would otherwise consider baby behavior. Jennie immediately put her arms around Meredith and buried her head in the crook of her neck, sobbing quietly. Meredith stroked her hair soothingly and mumbled words of comfort, knowing there was no use to pry something out of her daughter until she had calmed down a little.

She caught Derek's eye through the crowded store and motioned for him to get over and he made his way over to her with Josie in tow. He had unbuttoned his black overcoat due to the packed air inside and he was still carrying their bags.

"She won't walk anymore?" he asked and nodded at Jennie's limp form in Meredith's arms.

"Yeah," Meredith sighed and stepped out of the line to leave place for the group of teenagers behind her. "I don't think she's gonna last for much longer in here. If she doesn't throw a tantrum right now, she will soon."

"She does seem to have woken on the wrong side this morning," he agreed. "You think we should take her home?"

"I can do it," Meredith said. "You stay here with Josie for as long as she wants to."

"Ah-ddy, not walk," Jennie grumbled irritably through the veil of Meredith's hair that almost hid her face completely.

"You're tired, Bug?" Derek asked. "Mommy's gonna take you home now, ok?"

"No," she said defiantly, shaking her head back and forth.

"I think she is," Derek said calmly. "We can take you here another day when you feel better."

"No," Jennie screeched. "Ah-ddy, go ah-ey!"

"Jennie," Meredith said firmly. "Don't scream at Daddy. Do you want me to carry you to the car?"

"Not ah-r." Jennie wriggled in Meredith's grip and smacked her shoulders in a combined effort of trying to get down and ventilate her frustration.

"Jennie," Derek said sternly. "Stop. You're not allowed to hit.

"Not go oh-me," she yelled. "Not go oh-me!".

Meredith sighed and placed her basket on the floor. She loosened the grip Jennie's knees had around her torso and put her down on the ground. Jennie refused to remain standing and plopped down to the floor, angry tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Choosing to ignore her for a moment, Meredith turned to Josie, who had stood quietly next to Derek through the whole scene.

"You said we would be here all day," Josie mumbled.

"I know I did," Meredith said patiently. "But Jennie's not having it. Sometimes you have to change your plans. Daddy stays with you if you want, ok?"

Josie shrugged, unimpressed, but nodded silently and didn't argue further. Meredith felt silently grateful that at least one of her daughters was cooperating with her, but as many times before she felt guilty towards Josie. All too often she had to stand back for her sister when Derek and Meredith had to tend to her medical needs, or her everyday training, or the mere fact that she was younger. She squeezed Josie's shoulder reassuringly before turning to Jennie again. She'd made an attempt to stand up, but just as Meredith got her into sight, she lost her balance and sat heavily down on her bottom again.

"Want help up?" Meredith offered, reaching out her hand. Jennie refused to take it, crossed her arms over her chest and let out a high-pitched scream as reply.

Meredith sighed, hoisted her bag over her shoulder and bent down to pick Jennie up. Jennie did her best to fight her by kicking her as much as her legs allowed and grabbing hold of Meredith's hair in her right fist.

"Just go," she told Derek. "I got her."

After what felt like an hour, but in reality only was ten minutes, Meredith reached the parking lot, her back drenched with sweat after carrying a wriggling four-year old through a crowded mall. She quickened her steps over the lot, ignoring the stares of bypassers that seemed to ask why she didn't do anything to calm down her child. She fumbled for her car keys in her pocket, let Jennie down on the right side of the car and put her bag in the passenger seat. Again, Jennie refused to remain upstanding and from her place on the ground, she kept screaming at Meredith. She could catch a word now and then, but mostly it was just wordless wails. Instead of immediately putting her in the car, Meredith leaned against it and silently watched her child.

"You're done?" she asked quietly when finally, the screams had died out and all that was left was silent whimpers. Jennie didn't say anything, but only fought half-heartedly when Meredith lifted her up and strapped her into her booster seat.

The ride home seemed to take a lot longer than she remembered it. During the first half of the drive, she tried to talk to Jennie, but if anything, her whimpers just seemed to get stronger. By the second half they had changed to exhausted sobbing, still with no actual words. Sometime during the last quarter of the ride, Meredith gave up and turned her attention to the road only, waiting impatiently for their neighborhood to get into sight. She wondered what could have caused such a tremendous breakdown on Jennie's part. Merely a four-year old tantrum? Or was there anything else behind it?

Jennie didn't say anything when Meredith finally halted the car in their driveway, but she didn't fight her when she helped her out of the car and she trudged slowly inside and sat quietly on the stool in the hallway while Meredith changed her shoes.

"Bathroom time," Meredith announced, holding her breath for another outburst, but Jennie actually didn't protest when she took her into the bathroom to catheterize.

She wouldn't talk to her, though, and as soon as Meredith had helped her getting a new diaper, she trotted out. Meredith offered to make a snack in the kitchen, thinking that some sugar could help with the crankiness.

"No, Ah-mmy," Jennie said uninterestedly without even looking at her.

"Ok," Meredith said and didn't push it, deciding that the best thing was to let her be for a while. "You can play for a little while then while I do some writing, ok?"

She sat down at the living room table, flipped open the lid of her laptop and pulled some charts out from her briefcase. She hadn't counted on any time for work over the weekend, but the charts should have been done before she went home on Friday so she'd taken them with her anyway. Now she figured she could use some of the unexpected alone time to go over them.

While she waited for the laptop to start up, she quickly browsed the first chart. Josh Kline, a ten-year old New York native, had proved a difficult case, but she'd felt pretty good after they'd removed the tumor in his cerebellum. Even though he'd certainly been affected by the procedure, he'd hadn't failed telling her of the Yankees' latest win when she'd visited him the day after his surgery.

She heard Jennie advance through the house as she worked. She'd gone from her own room to Josie's, then into their master bedroom, then to the kitchen. Now, she was walking slowly into the living room, clutching two of her dolls with her right arm. She dropped them at the floor when she reached the couch, causing a loud thud. She looked defiantly at Meredith, but she chose not to scold her for it. Instead, she smiled noncommittally and returned to her chart again. Behind her, she heard Jennie pick up one of the dolls, blabbing quietly to it. She'd just gotten started with pretend play, and Meredith wasn't sure she'd really grasped the idea yet, but she eagerly mimicked how Josie used to do it. Josie was a good sport, almost always letting Jennie into her games without complaining.

A good ten minutes elapsed without incident. Meredith worked silently, scribbling down some of their findings in surgery and comparing it to the lab results on the paper clipped to the chart. She'd almost finished the last page when Jennie started to bang the doll against the back of her chair, and then pull at it with her hands. She put down her pen, afraid to misplace it somewhere on her paper.

"Stop that, Jen," she said sternly. When the banging went on, she pushed away the table before her, just enough so that she could swing her legs onto the side of her chair. When she stood up, it was all she could do just to catch Jennie as the chair tipped backwards.

"You're not allowed to do that," she told her.

"Why?" Jennie demanded, her fist still clenched like she would continue hit something as soon as she got a chance.

"Because the chair can break." Meredith put her down on the floor, making sure she was steady on her feet before she let go. "And because it can hurt. You know that."

Jennie shook her head, pursued her lips and smacked the chair again, this time more to demonstrate than to actually do any harm, while she refused to look at Meredith.

"I think it's quiet time for you," Meredith said. "Do you want to take a nap?"

"No," Jennie sulked, quickly picking up the doll she'd left at the couch and pressed it against her chest.

Meredith studied her for a moment. "Are you ok?"

Jennie was silent for a couple of moments before she looked down on the floor.

"My eyes uh-rt" she said in a little voice. "Ah-mmy, I not ihck," she added hastily.

"Your eyes hurt?" Meredith said and frowned. "How do you mean? Let me see."

She crouched down and looked closely around Jennie's eyes. She could see no sign of infection or redness, neither in the white of the eyes or around them.

"Can you tell me a little more, Jen?" she asked. "How does it feel?"

"Uh-rts here." Jennie lifted her right hand and pointed at her eyelids.

Meredith studied her for a moment. Most likely, Jennie had a coming cold, and this was the beginning of a headache. It could explain why she hadn't been quite herself all day. She pressed her hand briefly to Jennie's face but she wasn't warm.

"Maybe you're getting sick," she said. "Do you want me to make you some lemonade in the kitchen? Then maybe go lie down for a bit?"

"No!" Jennie shot back, but trudged after her into the kitchen anyway. She leaned against the kitchen table while Meredith took out some flavoring essence from the refrigerator and started to fill up a pitcher with water. "No! No, no!" she cried when Meredith took out a pink plastic cup from the cupboard. "Not ih-nk!"

"This?" Meredith said, reaching for another, purple one, and holding out it in front of Jennie. She sighed frustrated when Jennie kept shaking her head no.

"Wi-d my ey-eh-ant."

"This one then?" Meredith said, trying to control her impatience while rummaging in the cupboard after the yellow cup with the pattern of happy zoo animals dancing around the edges. She shook her head in disbelief when Jennie finally nodded. She poured some lemonade into the cup, some water in a regular glass for herself and walked over to the table.

Jennie didn't say anything as she took the cup from Meredith and used the straw she'd put in for her to take some sips. Meredith sat down at the table and studied her daughter a little more closely. A frown had overtaken her face. She was looking at Meredith, but was wearing an almost blank expression, like she really didn't see her.

Meredith reached forward, closing in the gap between them and gripped her waist to turn her around to face her. "Hey, baby girl" she said gently. "You sure you don't feel sick? You don't want to sleep for a bit?"

"No!" Jennie's yell came unexpectedly, and Meredith blinked in surprise as Jennie put both her hands on hers and shoved at them to break loose from her grip. "No!"

"Jennie," she said and frowned. "I was just asking. I think you seem to need it."

"No!" Jennie shrieked, frustrated tears now rolling down her cheeks. She pushed once more at Meredith's arms and started walking over the floor as fast as she could, stopping only briefly in the hallway leading to her room. "I not a ney-bee," she yelled. "Not a ney-bee!."

"Jennie," Meredith called perplexedly. It took her a moment to recover from the sudden outburst, but then she hastily put her glass in the sink just behind her and followed Jennie out in the hallway. She hadn't gotten far and Meredith caught up with her just outside the small bathroom. "Jennie, wait," she said. "Can we..."

"No!" Jennie screamed, wriggling from her touch and almost lost her balance.

"Jennie..."

"S-op it!" she cried. "Not!"

Meredith knew that nothing she did would be right; knew that touching Jennie would probably make it worse. Yet, against better judgment, she tried to hug her. She wanted to intermediate a security and take away her pain, but all it did was upsetting Jennie even more. Taking a step backwards, she finally lost her balance altogether, thankfully not falling down headlong, but plopping down on her bottom.

"Nooo," she screamed again, her face red and her fists clenched, and her whole posture rigid. Now that she didn't even have the possibility to run away from her, Meredith didn't try to force any intimate contact on her. She could only stand and watch as her daughter waved furiously around her, gasping after air between the cries. When her sobs had reached exhausted whimpering, Meredith tilted her head a little.

"Will you tell me why you're mad?" she said gently.

"No!" Jennie immediately replied and when Meredith reached out her hands to offer her help up, she responded by smacking her hard on her upper arm.

"Stop that now," Meredith said seriously. "I see you're sad, but you're not allowed to hit. You've tried to hit me twice today and I know that you know better." She paused for a second, studying her child's puffy eyes and defiant expression. "Go to your room and quiet down. We'll talk more about this when Daddy comes home."

To her surprise, Jennie didn't object to this. She did all she could to get up on her feet again and Meredith watched her struggle, unsure if she should offer her help or not. When Jennie finally looked up at her, clearly torn between the need to get away from Meredith by her own means and the need to be helped up in order to do it, she silently held out her hands and lifted her off the ground. She watched as Jennie turned and stomped down the hallway without a word and when she was out of sight, she leaned her head against the wall behind her, letting the guilt wash over her. What was this about? How could a simple affectionate name cause her daughter to get that upset? What were they missing? She thought of the incident in preschool that Derek had told her about, and what Josie had told her about the party the other day, and then, another incident from some year ago came to her mind.

The girl in the neighbor family down the street had been celebrating her fifth birthday. Both girls had been invited, but Josie had been home with a runny nose and a low-grade fever, so Meredith had taken Jennie there alone. They'd parked the wheelchair next to the other children's bikes and after saying hi to the other parents, Meredith had carried Jennie over the backyard. They were met by a dozen children, some of them standing around the large pool, others spread out on the lawn. Some of them also living in their neighborhood already knew Jennie's name and waved cheerfully at her. A little girl in a red and white striped dress had immediately come up to them, tilted her head and looked curiously at Jennie.

"Can't she walk? Why is she in a wheelchair?"

"She can walk," Meredith had replied gently. "If she gets a little help."

She'd put Jennie down on the grass, carefully steadying her and with her left hand in her right walked her towards the pool. She'd halted halfway, pulling Meredith's hand and pointed eagerly at the swingset. Two children had followed them towards that part of the yard, one of them the girl in the striped dress. They'd quickly snatched one swing each and Meredith had sat down with Jennie in the sand at their feet, looking at their flight through the air. The girl had jumped off her swing at its highest point, landed in the sand and repeated her question from before.

"But why can't she walk? Will she never walk? Is she still a baby?"

She had a lot of questions bubbling under the surface of her pale skin. Meredith hadn't seen them coming. Until then, all children they'd met had readily accepted Jennie's limitations without asking more than, "She can play anyway, right?" and at Meredith's assurance, happily resumed their game. This girl was a couple of years older. The age of thousand questions, and she hadn't been prepared.

"She can walk," Meredith said again, a little more firmly this time. "She just can't walk as good as you can yet."

"But does she have a disease?"

As a pediatric surgeon, she was able to explain brain tumors or spinal defects on her young patients' level; she would have been more than equipped to do the same thing now. Yet, all she seemed able to do in that moment was wishing that the party would end.

"Her legs were weak when she was born," she'd said at last, hoping that Jennie wouldn't notice how false her cheerful tone was. "You have to train them a lot, don't you, Jennie?" And you don't have a disease, she'd thought but not added, something in her heart breaking down a little for each curious glance from this girl. You're not sick and I don't wish for you to be cured. You are not broken and you don't need to be fixed.

"Want to see a trick?" the little girl had interrupted. Meredith had nodded, and wished that the trick would constitute of the girl magically making herself disappear.

She'd leaped into the air and twirled herself around with her hands together above her head. "Look!" she said when she landed on the ground again. "She will never be able to do that if she's gonna sit in that wheelchair all the time."

Her words felt like short, swift twinges in Meredith's gut and though she couldn't care less about the trick, the thoughts of all the times her daughter would get told the things she couldn't do by a child not meaning any harm burned in her chest. She cared about the thousand questions and their answers that had already formed into a hard ball and gotten under her skin.

Jennie had squealed in her wheelchair on their way home, nodding happily when Derek asked her if she'd had a good time. She'd been luckily unaware of the thousand thorny questions, but Meredith couldn't help but think of all the versions of this scene her daughter would encounter in the future. And now, she couldn't help but wonder if the future had come. Was this tantrum over a nickname a result of anything someone had said at school?

When Derek and Josie came home not much later, the nagging feelings of inadequacy and remorse got the better of Meredith. She forced a smile when Josie excitedly told her how they'd gone for ice cream at the mall – chocolate and blueberry – and then taken a detour to the library, but all she could think of was her other child, hurting. When she blinked furiously to keep her tears at bay when Josie innocently asked for Jennie, Derek quickly understood that something wasn't right.

"I thought you couldn't wait to get started on that book," he said to her, smiling. "Why don't you grab something to drink in the kitchen and curl up with it?"

Josie looked from Meredith to Derek, an uncertainty shadowing her eyes, but she asked nothing.

"Ok," she agreed slowly, taking her backpack and walked into the kitchen, casting only one glance backwards.

She wasn't even out of sight before Meredith sank down on the chair where she'd been sitting all afternoon working on her charts.

"Theres something wrong with Jennie," she burst out, putting her hands on the table, palms down, and stared at them.

She felt Derek take her right hand in his and gently smooth her skin in even motions with his thumb, and when she looked at him, she saw her own worry mirrored in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She tried to keep calm when she retold the afternoon's developments but she couldn't refrain from wiping tears from her eyes as she remembered Jennie's uncharacteristic screams and her inability to articulate exactly the reason for them.

"Something must have happened to her," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "I mean, someone must have said... She was so mad at me." She quieted. "She was... I have never seen her like that."

Derek frowned. "Wait Meredith," he said. "Did you talk to Jennie about it? What exactly did she say?"

"No," Meredith said, shaking her head forcefully. "That's what I'm saying. There was no talking. She was in no state. I'm just assuming. But..." She paused. "Derek, how did we miss this? No matter what's bothering her, how did we not know there was something?"

"She might just have been tired, Meredith," Derek said softly. "We don't know for sure she's upset about something in particular."

"I do," Meredith said heatedly. "And we should have known about it," she insisted, some of the inadequacy bubbling up again, feeling suspiciously much like anger. "Why didn't we?"

Derek shook his head, not wanting to argue further. "I don't know," he said simply. He tried to squeeze her fingers, but she pulled her hand back, shaking her head slightly. This wasn't the time for comfort. They needed to figure out something, or it would eat on her conscience little by little until she was totally wrecked.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

Derek studied her for a moment, like he was trying to decide exactly what she meant by her question. "I still think we need to find out more before we jump to conclusions," he said carefully. "But if you're right, if she's upset because someone said something... well, it's a reality she's gonna meet. I hate it as much as you do, but she's gonna need to learn to face it. There's only so much we can help her with that."

She didn't want to believe him. He hadn't seen Jennie's plea of being left alone, her flushed face after exhausting herself from screaming and not being able to articulate what was bothering her. If Derek had heard all that, he would never say there was nothing to do. There must be.

"She didn't ask for this," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears at the non-assuring answer she hadn't been looking for. She'd thought, they both had, that they had gotten most of it pretty right. They constantly worried, but Jennie always seemed so happy. The possibility that they had let something go unnoticed; that their child may not at all be fine, that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

"Meredith," Derek said gently. He stood up and walked around the table so that he was behind her. He lowered his hands to her shoulders and gripped them loosely, letting his hands brush up and down. She let him this time, leaning backwards into his chest. "You're a good mom," he said quietly. "We do the best we can by her."

But Meredith couldn't shake the doubts that had mercilessly crept up on her since Jennie's words. She put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands while she tried to blink away the tears that were just on the brink of falling. "I thought we did," she said. "Now I'm not so sure."

"Meredith..."

"You didn't see her," she went on, ignoring him. "I mean, she's not in her best mood today. She had a real fit at the mall. But she had some kind of reason. This was different. It came out of nowhere. This... it was... Derek, what has gone wrong?"

She hated that she hadn't been able to be there for her daughter when it was she wanted most of all. She was terrified to discover that they could fail to notice that something was wrong even though they lived in a constant fear of it. And most of all, she didn't want to admit that there might not be a happy ending. That all that was left was the ongoing struggle to get it right, over and over again.

"It's going to happen again, Derek," she added. "Chances are pretty good. And there must be something we can do."

Jennie's door was closed, something it usually wasn't. She and Josie often went in and out of each other's rooms. Neither of them was yet expressing a need for privacy that a closed door entitled too, except in cases like these, after a fight or when they considered themselves unfairly treated.

"Jennie?" Meredith said, knocking lightly on the door. "Can Daddy and I come in?"

There was no answer, but when she carefully eased the door open anyway, at least she wasn't met with a defiant shout. Jennie was sitting on the floor, her back resting against the edge of her bed, and she was playing aimlessly with the Lego blocks from the box she'd gotten for Christmas. Her bangs fell down over her forehead and Meredith noted that they would need to get her to the hair dresser soon. She made her way over the somewhat messy floor and sat down next to Jennie. She didn't start talking right away, waiting to see if Jennie would say something, but she was quiet.

"Did you feel sad before?" she asked softly. "When you were upset earlier, did you feel sad?"

Jennie didn't answer right away, and she didn't look at her, but before Meredith could ask again, she nodded slightly.

"Can you tell me why?" Jennie shrugged. She plucked with a green Lego block that lay in her reach, turning it in her hand before she tried to fit it together with the red one she was already holding.

"You were so angry with me," Meredith said. "Was it something I said?"

"Ney-bee," Jennie murmured. "I not a ney-bee."

"You were angry with me because I called you baby?" Meredith asked. "I know you are a big girl, you're four years old. Did you think I meant that you were a baby?"

A slight nod. Meredith raised her head to look at Derek, who remained standing, leaning against the door frame watching them quietly. When he nodded encouragingly, she turned her attention back to Jennie.

"I not ahn walk good," she mumbled. "Oh-ly ney-bees ahn't walk. And I am itt-lest." She paused shortly and then looked up at Meredith, biting her lip slightly. "Is eh-caush of I have funny legs?"

Meredith felt her heart begin beating faster, taken aback by the direct question.

"Yes," she said slowly, not sure of where the conversation would go, but willing to take it in Jennie's pace. She begged that neither she nor Derek would have difficulties understanding Jennie today. She absolutely didn't want to have to get the iPad for this conversation. They were threading sensitive ground as it was, and she feared that a setback like that would either make Jennie really mad, or make her stop talking at all.

"I oh-n like my legs," Jennie stated, lifting her right one with both her hands and dropping it immediately again.

Meredith glanced quickly up at Derek again, but he was intently focused on their daughter and not meeting her eye. His face mirrored the same mix of sympathy, pain and uncertainty that she felt herself.

"How come you don't like them, Jennie?" she asked.

"Eh-caush it no work," she replied simply. "I ahn't walk good."

Meredith's heart skipped a beat. Before today, she'd never heard Jennie say those words, and even though realistically she knew that she must know, it stung to actually hear her say it like this.

"I think that's a good reason to feel sad," she said gently. "But your legs are still really good legs. I like them very much."

"Yeah, it oh-ke."

"Well, they're not broken," Meredith explained. "But they don't work like my or Daddy's legs, do they?"

Jennie shook her head no, looking away from her again.

"That's why you have a really cool wheelchair, Bug," Derek interjected from the doorway. "That's the way you walk sometimes."

Jennie scrutinized him for a moment, then let go of the both blocks she held in her hand and began picking at the hem of her shirt instead. "Oh-ly I am in a eehl-sh-air," she said quietly.

Meredith felt another pang in her chest. Jennie didn't sound exactly sad, but she'd never heard her utter these words either before. Hospital visits, training sessions and assistive technologies had all been part of her everyday life since she was born and she'd never really questioned it. She wasn't sure of where to go from here.

"I know," she simply replied.

Jennie turned right and tried to stand up on her knees to get to Meredith, although that only made her tip over. She landed with her head in Meredith's lap and instead of trying again, she remained where she was, burying her head in the space between Meredith's legs.

"And you ahn't pway pag if you're in a eehl-sh-air. And all kids pway it. And I oh-nt."

Meredith could barely make out her words, partly because they were muffled, spoken down into her leg, partly because Jennie had started to sob silently.

She had, a couple of times this last year, dropped comments or questions that let Meredith and Derek know she was wondering about the fact that other girls didn't need wheelchairs, or braces, or sign language to make themselves understood. They'd done their best to pick up on those times and talk to her about it, but she'd never seemed bothered by it. Not like this.

Meredith put her left hand on Jennie's back and started to rub it soothingly up and down. She was not sure of what to say, but registered with appreciation that Jennie didn't shrug her hand off. Derek, who had been afraid to intrude too much out of fear that Jennie wouldn't want to open up, now left his position in the doorway and sat down on the floor so that he was sitting next to them both.

"Hey, Bug," he said gently when her sobs had quieted down a little. "You know something? When you were still in Mommy's belly, the doctor told us you would have some problems with your legs when you came out. Mommy and I were a little bit scared, because we didn't know how things were gonna be."

Jennie lifted her head from Meredith's lap and looked up at Derek. Her eyelashes were darker than usual from her tears and her cheeks a little flushed. She sniffled a couple of times and put up her hand to her face to rub some of the wet away and nodded quietly.

"Then you came out of Mommy's belly," Derek told her. "And you were so little. And you were so adorable. Mommy and I fell in love with you immediately."

"I was uuh-t?"

"The cutest baby we ever saw," Derek assured her. "And we wanted to take care of you the best we could."

"You were pretty sick the first years," Meredith said. "And we had to take you to a lot of doctors to help your legs to get better. But back then, when you really were a baby, you were such a good baby. You always made us so happy and we loved being with you."

"I good now o-oh," Jennie stated.

"Yeah, you are," Derek chuckled. "You are very good now, too. And when we look at you now, we can't believe you're getting so big. You're not our little girl anymore. You'll always be our baby, because we love you so much, but you're not _a_baby. That's not why you can't walk. It's something in your back that's not quite as it is for other kids, and that's why your legs don't really support you."

"And you're really good at walking," Meredith interjected. "Some kids that have the same problems as you, they don't walk at all. You're doing really great."

"We know you sometimes have to do things your own way," Derek said and looked seriously at his daughter. "I know that's not always fun. But when we look at you now, and see how long you have come, you amaze us all the time. And we know that everything is gonna be fine."

"We get that you don't like some things are difficult for you," Meredith said. "But Daddy's right. You're gonna be good. Even if some things are hard right now, and maybe later too, you're gonna be just fine. I promise you."

Jennie put her head down momentarily, then tried to push herself up in a more upright position. Meredith gripped her arms and supported her until she was sitting in the space between her legs, her back against her chest.

"You oh-mise? Ea-lly oh-mise?" she asked. Her voice wasn't wavering like before, but it was a bit apprehensive, like she wasn't sure these assurances would actually show to be true out in the real world.

"Yeah," Meredith said and smiled at her. "Just because your legs are hurt, it doesn't mean you're different than the other kids. We know you wanna play too, and that you know a lot of things, just like all the other four year olds. We know you're not a baby, Jen. That's not in your legs."

Jennie nodded and leaned backwards into Meredith's chest. Meredith weaved her fingers into Jennie's hair and let them follow the form of her skull. She tried to remember when she'd last had her hair cut, but failed to come up with an answer for sure. Taking Josie to the hairdresser had always been a nuisance since she was too shy to be left alone for her appointment. Jennie on the other hand was so used to be prodded and poked from her hospital examinations that she didn't care much about doing the same thing there.

"I want you to promise me something, Jen," she said. "When you feel sad like you did today, come tell me and Daddy. It doesn't matter if your feelings are hard to talk about, we'll always try to help you." She let her fingers trace patterns over Jennie's back, knowing that she liked that slightly tickling sensation. "And sometimes we might not be able to help you, but we will always listen. Ok?"

She saw Derek nod at Jennie, confirming her words. Jennie turned her head to the right, trying to look backwards to see Meredith. When she didn't quite succeed, she looked forward again, gripping Meredith's hand, mimicking her parents way of reassuring her when she needed it. "I oh-mise, Ah-mmy," she said earnestly.

They stayed on the floor for a little while longer. Derek picked up the Lego blocks he'd made himself a place amongst and began putting them together. Meredith looked at him and remembered the third time he'd told her he'd wanted to have kids with her. It had been one of those nights, in the beginning of their marriage, before their string of failed attempts. They'd been sitting in the hammock of her mother's house; it had been one of the last years they lived there before Derek's blue prints were all carried out on his land. He'd said it in passing, like he wanted to make sure not to spook her by demanding too much, but she'd seen how much he'd wanted it.

He gave her a lopsided smile and leaned forward to adjust the sock on Jennie's left foot that had slid down a little. Meredith was just about to suggest moving downstairs, but Derek's touch made Jennie shift in her arms. She buried her face in the nape of her neck and Meredith felt herself passing that fine line between relaxed and concerned.

"Derek," she said quietly. "I think she feels warm."

Derek frowned and scooted a little closer. "She does feel a little feverish," he agreed when he touched her face gently with his hand. "I guess one more reason she's been clingy today."

"Ah-ddy," Jennie mumbled irritably, squinting a little at him and turned her head away from him. "No touch."

"How are you doing, Bug?" Derek asked, letting his fingers run along her arm. "Not very good?"

"I not ih-ck," Jennie said stubbornly. "Not ih-ck."

"Ok," Meredith agreed. "But does it hurt anywhere?"

Jennie's nod was so slight that Meredith almost missed it, but the miserable look on her face didn't go unnoticed. Derek saw it too.

"Can you show us where?" he asked.

When Jennie slowly lifted her right arm and gestured to the back of her head, Meredith exchanged a look with Derek.

"Daddy and I think you feel a little warm," she said. "How about we take your temperature and then you can rest a little more?"

"No, no, no," Jennie protested and immediately wriggled out of Meredith's grip. "Ah-ddy, no," she begged and reached for him.

"I think Mommy's right," Derek murmured in her ear as she crawled into his lap and put her arms around his neck. "It's no big deal. We just want to check so there's nothing wrong, ok?"

But his words didn't get the soothing effect he had hoped for; instead they started a new round of exhausting screaming and crying and it took Derek and Meredith a considerable amount of coaxing to calm her down. When she at last no longer seemed hysteric, Derek got up from the floor and gestured to Meredith that he would go get the thermometer. Meredith nodded and watched her daughter who now sat leaned against the bed, looking almost glazed in sweat.

"Jen?" Meredith said gently, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. "Do you want to sit here with me again?"

Jennie nodded, but didn't move; barely leaned her head against Meredith's shoulder and suppressed a sniffle. Meredith scooted a little closer and lifted her up in her lap, making sure she could rest comfortably against her chest. Jennie whimpered quietly, wriggling a little as she settled. Suddenly, without so much as a second's warning, she threw up all down over her front.

Meredith immediately got up on her knees, holding Jennie forward with both her arms, but nowhere enough quickly for the vomit not to land on the floor and on both of them.

"Derek," she called, trying to get herself heard through Jennie's cries that filled the air.

"Coming," she heard him reply a few rooms away. He was probably busy rummaging the closets for children's Tylenol or he would have come back in already.

As they waited, she put Jennie momentarily down on the floor to pull some napkins off her nightstand table, then she quickly scooped her up again and sat down on her bed. She swept the hair off of Jennie's forehead and confirmed that she indeed felt slightly febrile. While she gently tried to wipe the worst off her face and hands, she mumbled soothing words to try to calm her scared daughter down. It proved a difficult task, since Jennie was so upset that she almost didn't get any air between her hiccupping sobs that she had dissolved into.

"Ah-mmy," she whimpered when she finally caught enough breath. "Not good."

"Jennie," Meredith said sympathetically. "I know you don't feel good, but you're gonna be ok. Sometimes we get sick, but it's ok."

"Ah-mmy, uh-rts," Jennie cried and clutched to her shirt with her tiny hands. "Uh-rts."

"I know, it hurts" Meredith assured her. "Daddy and I are gonna get you some medicine and then you can lie down, ok?"

She and Derek had a silent agreement to put Jennie between them in their bed when the night came. She'd slept most of the evening during the covers on the make-shift bed Derek had made her on the couch so that they would be able to keep an eye on her. They'd skipped her bath and only woken her up for her bathroom routine. After making sure there wasn't any dramatic change in her temperature, coaxing her into sleep again hadn't been very difficult. They still wanted her between them though. Jennie couldn't get out of her bed by herself in the middle of the night to come get them if she needed to. Maneuvers like sitting up and rolling over were things she could do by herself after years of stubborn training, but they didn't come to her easily and in an urgent need to throw up, these abilities couldn't be trusted.

They'd both slept lightly, Meredith with a hand on Jennie's arm to detect any temperature spikes and Derek in the far end of the bed to not disturb her. Jennie wasn't more sick with colds than any other kid and it had been a while since she'd been spiking a temperature. The headaches, however, plagued her more than it did the average kid, something that wasn't surprising given her history of hydrocephalus and the shunt. It was always a tricky business, deciding whether a headache was the symptom of a usual cold or something worse. She hoped that this time, the fever would prove an indicator of a fleeting cold and nothing else, but the uncomfortable feeling that she might be wrong nagged in the back of her head.

Meredith had barely gotten more than two hours of sleep when the door to their bedroom opened. She drowsily heard the light footsteps on the floor before she felt the tug on her shirt.

"Mom?" Josie asked quietly. Her voice wavered a little, being just on the verge of tears and with that little rasp from not being fully awake yet.

Meredith blinked a little but didn't open her eyes. "What do you need?"

Josie swallowed audibly, working over the lump in her throat and tried to keep her voice steady, but couldn't keep the small sob from slipping out. "Can I sleep with you?" she asked in a little voice.

Meredith opened her left eye and looked at her. She was clad in the striped pajamas that Derek's mom had gotten her on her birthday last year and her hair was rumpled; flat on the side she'd been sleeping on and a messy curl on the other. She was rubbing her left hand over her face, trying to wipe the tears that welled up in her eyes while she waited for Meredith to allow her into the bed.

Meredith turned right to look at her other daughter. Jennie had moved during the night and was now lying with her face down into her pillow, much closer to Derek than how she'd started out. Meredith eased back towards her, not so much that she'd nudge her but enough to make a space for Josie to curl up in.

"Did you have a bad dream again?" she asked, not able to keep the yawn out of her voice.

Josie nodded, settling into the space before her. She'd been coming into Meredith and Derek's bedroom all nights this week, usually around two in the morning but sometimes earlier, sobbing about having been awakened. They'd fallen into a routine by now; Meredith knew what position was most likely to calm her down and how to talk her back to sleep pretty quickly. Josie wanted to lie flush with her back against Meredith's chest, with one of her legs draped over Meredith's and her right hand in hers.

Meredith rubbed her back a little sleepily with her left hand while Josie settled in. "Is it the same one?" she mumbled.

"Yeah," Josie whispered, letting out a breath and relaxing against her.

"Tell me."

It got quiet. Each night, Josie remembered different fragments from her dreams. So far, she'd told Meredith about faceless figures coming towards her, of being left alone and everything going quiet. It usually took her a while before she would find a way to express what she'd experienced and this time, Meredith had almost fallen asleep again when she spoke.

"They're chasing me," she murmured, her voice calm but still thick with tears from the scarce.

"Who's chasing you?"

"I don't know."

She kept retelling small bits of it for another ten minutes, not being able to stop once she'd begun, but eventually, Meredith could coax her into sleep by assuring her that it was ok now, she was safe, that it was only a dream.

When Josie had drifted off, though, sleep wouldn't really come for Meredith at once. It was true what she'd told her daughter; it had only been a dream. But it had now been the same dream for almost a week and Josie didn't usually have these kinds of problems. Sure, she had nightmares like all kids, but they were few and far between and usually provoked by a scary movie or a story they'd read. This was something else. She tried to remember what she'd studied about dreams in her psych class but failed to remember much more than vague outlines of theories. She was sure something had triggered this sudden onset of anxiety, though, and made a mental note to really talk to Derek about it.

She carefully disentangled from Josie's sweaty grip and tried to position herself as comfortable as she could, squished in between her two children. Jennie hadn't moved during the time Josie had been in the room and didn't now when Meredith leaned over her to quickly check on her. Derek stirred in his end of the bed though, even if the room now was quiet again. He rolled over on his back and rubbed his eyes sleepily before turning left to look at her.

"Hey there," Meredith whispered apologetically. "Did we wake you up?"

"Mm," he nodded. "Is she ok?"

"Nightmare again," Meredith said and saw him frown. "She's sleeping now. Jennie didn't wake up, not yet anyway."

"You should sleep too," he replied.

"Yeah." She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts wander while she waited for sleep to come. Derek was quiet too; she wasn't sure if he had dozed off or not. "Derek?" she tried. "What's your schedule tomorrow? One of us has to be home with Jennie."

But she got no answer, and when she squinted over at him, he breathed regularly, his mouth slightly open. Deciding to leave the decision of tomorrow's practical arrangement until the morning, she was finally able to drift into some kind of sleep.

_A/N – So, what I wanted to show in this chapter were two things. One is that you shouldn't be too quick to connect everything a child says to the fact that there's a disability involved. Meredith drew her own conclusions of Jennie's uncharacteristic tantrums, but in reality, it was much more due to her being sick, cranky and tired than anything else. Meredith just happened to say something that triggered a feeling that probably has been building up for a while. Another thing is that the experience of a disability might be very different for the child and for the parents. Meredith and Derek worry a lot about her speech and other people's attitudes, but for Jennie, not being able to run around with the other kids is a much more pressing matter. There's a lot more to say, but this author's note is too long already, so I'll save that for the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one, and as usual, I'd be very happy to hear from you! _


	6. Makes no sense to walk in the dark

_A/N – Time for the next chapter! When we left them, Meredith and Derek had both children in bed, Jennie with a fever and Josie after a nightmare. With this chapter, we're entering the second half of the story. Will they get any closer to the answers they so desperately are asking for? _

_This chapter is my longest so far, I think they'll be a little shorter after this. Also, I changed the order of some sections in my final editing and I hope that didn't left any funny references or anything. Let me know if you find something incoherent (or just plain wrong). Happy reading! _

Meredith walked down the hallway with quick steps, briefly registering how the walls clearly bore traces from being a pediatric unit. She saw them pretty much all day when she visited her patients after surgery but had never appreciated that feature on a personal level before.

She jumped when the shrill alarm announcing the code blue pierced the relative stillness this low-water hour brought to the ward. Then she relaxed. She wasn't here as a surgeon today and hadn't been for a couple of days now. She was going to sit as any other parent at her daughter's bedside and try to cheer her up until Derek came to take her place. She sipped the cup of coffee she'd sneaked out for, and hoped it would help her get by the last part of this never-ending day.

The night where she'd first gotten sick, Jennie had woken up gagging once. She had still felt warm and had kept complaining over a headache, but Meredith had managed to coax her into sleep again. She'd woken a few times after that but Jennie had seemed no worse for wear, curled up in the same position she'd started out in, and she'd gone back to sleep again.

She'd awoken with a start when she'd heard Derek call her name at six thirty. The room was still dark even though dawn had begun to creep into the small creaks in the window. She blinked a little, almost annoyed that he didn't let her sleep, until she remembered.

"How is she?" she murmured.

"Her temperature is up," Derek said quietly. He stood at the edge of the bed with Jennie on his hip, telling Meredith that he must at some point gotten up with her. She sat up straight and reached out her arms.

"Here, I'll take her," she offered.

Derek eased her carefully into her arms and her daughter crawled over her, wriggling a little before settling against her chest.

"Ah-mmy, I not want eh-oohl oh-day," she sobbed. "I not feel good."

"Oh, Jen," she sighed and held her tightly when she curled up against her. "No preschool today, I promise. Derek, let's give her something for her fever," she suggested.

"No," Jennie protested. "No eeh-ver, Ah-mmy."

"We just want to make you feel better," Derek promised. "It'll be quick, I promise."

Jennie looked at him with big eyes. "Oh-ey," she said in a small voice and Meredith felt her body resign in her arms.

She held Jennie flush against her, trying to communicate an unspoken security until Derek came back with some medicine in a plastic cup. She lifted her up in a half-sitting position and could almost see the sharp jolt of pain that seared through her head from the motion as she winced involuntarily.

"Ah-mmy," she whimpered when she'd reluctantly swallowed the thick liquid.

"I know," Meredith said gently, but wasn't prepared for Jennie's stomach to lurch.

She managed to react quickly enough to sit her more upright, facing away from her when she heaved harshly over the covers. She didn't even need to look at Derek before he took the few steps into the bathroom and soon came back with some wet cloths. He gently helped Jennie wipe her mouth, trying to still her scared sobs.

"It's ok," Meredith soothed. "We're gonna get you a new pair of pajamas. You'll feel better soon."

Jennie was limp in her arms when she carefully helped her into the matching purple long-sleeved shirt and pants Carolyn had given her for Christmas last year. Meredith didn't like the small gasps of pain she involuntarily let out each time she had to shift her body a little and she looked at Derek for support.

"She threw up only ten minutes ago," he told her. "That's why we were up."

"How's your head, Jen?" Meredith asked.

"Is uh-rts, is uh-rts," Jennie cried.

"Will you let me have a look?" Derek asked. "That's my girl," he praised when she didn't fight him. When he swept back her hair, he revealed the little spot in the back of her head where they'd inserted the shunt three years back. "Meredith," he prompted. She leaned forward.

"It's irritated," she agreed.

It all summed up. The painful headaches, the harsh vomit spells, the irritability the last days. In retrospect, she guessed they should have seen it coming. Both she and Derek had noted that Jennie seemed to be more tired than usual. She'd been complaining of bright lights. Her appetite hadn't at all been as it used to. Even her preschool teacher had expressed concerns about her attentiveness. And the balance issues that had made Meredith a little concerned hadn't just been her imagination. She was sure that if they tried, they would be able to trace symptoms from much earlier.

They'd both silently slipped into that efficient doctor mode they had practiced so many times in hospital rooms or in the E.R. Derek had telephoned in to let the hospital know they were coming and what they would need. Meredith had packed a bag with the most necessary and gone to wake up Josie. The trip had been undramatic. Jennie had been admitted and while they were waiting to get into surgery, Lexie had come to pick up Josie. Derek had been scheduled to work that afternoon but didn't have to make more than a few calls until he'd traded his shift with Jim Nelson.

Leaving Jennie for the second time in someone else's hands during surgery certainly wasn't easy. Meredith wished she could have that complete trust in Jennie's doctors as the patients sometimes had in her, but she'd been working too long not to be aware of how much could go wrong in a procedure, no matter how routine it was considered. She couldn't really decide if it was better or worse that pediatric neurosurgery was her own specialty but tried to focus on the fact that a craniotomy to relieve the ICP and insert a new shunt only would take around an hour and then she would see for herself.

They were told it had been a textbook procedure. Jennie had been groggy and drifting in and out of sleep pretty much the whole afternoon but as far as Meredith could see, she recovered as expected. Both she and Derek had spent the day at the hospital and after that traded shifts between work, the child in the hospital bed and the child at home. If Meredith never had felt split between her many responsibilities before, this would do it. She didn't doubt Jennie wouldn't be good taken care of and the fact that she personally knew most of the nurses only made this much more true. That Jennie was such a confident and out-going child that had no problem talking to new people, despite her speech difficulties, was a comfort to Meredith those times she must leave her side. Still, leaving her child alone after surgery, no matter in how good hands she was, ate a little bit of her soul each time.

She took the last sips from the already almost lukewarm coffee before throwing the cup in the trash and stepped inside her daughter's hospital room. Jennie had nodded eagerly when she'd asked her if she could be alone for the few minutes it would take her to get something to drink, but she didn't like to leave her without supervision. She was half-lying in her bed, the headrest raised and pillows fluffed up behind her back.

"Ah-mmy? Ahn I go ea-lly ea-lly fast in my eehl-shair?" she took up conversation as if Meredith had never left the room.

"Like Curious George?" Meredith asked.

It was Jennie's third day in a hospital bed and they had almost had grown hoarse from reading the worn books they'd brought. Derek had finally downloaded an audio version of the old children's book on the iPad, which they'd brought so she would be able to make herself understood if she needed to. Their hardcover version of _Curious George Goes to the Hospital_ resided on her bedside table as well and Meredith was glad that they had read it just some week before. Jennie had kept referring to George throughout the procedures and wanted them to read it to her again and again. The going fast in a wheelchair part wasn't particularly one Meredith would encourage, though.

She nodded enthusiastically and reached for her earphones that Meredith had insisted she'd wear. She'd convinced her to take a pause in the story when the nurse had come in to suggest a little snack. Jennie's face was still a little flushed from a fever that didn't really want to subside and Meredith wanted her to hydrate as much as possible. She looked a lot better than when they'd first brought her in, though. This morning, she'd let Meredith comb her hair and it was now swept back from her face instead of hanging in sweaty strands around her eyes.

"Don't you think that would be really dangerous?" Meredith asked her. She stood up and checked that she had everything in her shoulder bag. "You wouldn't want to knock over stuff like George did."

"No," Jennie said, considering this with a frown. "I wanna fly fr-oh air!"

"You're one crazy girl," Meredith told her. "Will you give me a kiss? I'm gonna go pick up Josie as soon as Daddy comes. I hope that's any minute now."

"That would actually be right now," Derek replied, stepping into the room just in time to hear her last words.

"Ah-ddy!" Jennie exclaimed happily and lifted her head from the pillows enough to turn her head and smile widely at him.

"Hi there, Bug," Derek said and winked at her. "It's gonna be you and me tonight, huh?"

"Ee-sh, you and me, Ah-ddy," Jennie nodded. "We eeh ohm-vie?"

"We can see a movie," Derek said as he took off his coat and placed it over the chair next to the bathroom door. "But first, someone's here to see you." He gestured behind him and Jennie craned her neck to see who he'd brought. Meredith did the same.

"Hi," Susan, one of the nurses at the day shift, said as she stepped forward. "I ran into your dad, Jennie, and he told me now would be a good time inserting a new I.V. in your arm."

Jennie's expectant face fell so quickly that Meredith almost missed it and she curled up in her bed, turning her head away from Susan.

"No."

"Jennie, we need it to give you medicine in," Susan explained. "And to give you food in. And draw your blood, so we don't have to pinch you every time we need it."

"No."

"Why not, Jen?" Derek asked when the nurse looked uncertainly at them.

"No. Is uh-rt."

"It's not gonna hurt bad," Derek said. "I know you are really brave so you'll be a champ on this."

"No!" Jennie exclaimed and jerked the arm Derek had been putting his hand on away from him.

"Won't you show Daddy how good you are?" Susan suggested but nothing got through to Jennie who kept shaking her head and holding her arm flush at her body so that none of them could get access to it.

"Jennie," Derek tried to reason. "You've been to hospitals so many times. This is such a little thing. I promised you have been through worse."

"No," Jennie shouted. "Not eeh-dle."

Derek sent Meredith a desperate glance. She'd been standing a bit behind him as he tried to convince their daughter, her coat already draped over her arm. Now she carefully put it next to Derek's on the chair and sat down by Jennie's bedside.

"Hey," she said quietly. "You really don't want to do this, huh?"

Jennie shook her head again and her eyes filled with tears.

"Would it feel better if me or Daddy did it?"

"No!"

"Ok," Meredith said. "Is it the needle you don't like?"

Jennie nodded and bit her lip. Her whole body was tense where she was lying.

"How about we do the other things, one step at a time. And then we'll see about the needle. Would that be ok?" Meredith ached to take Jennie up in her arms, but she was afraid to break any of the fragile trust she was slowly trying to build up and so she merely reached her finger forward and twirled a strand of Jennie's hair around it.

"What?" Jennie asked suspiciously, not willing to give in to an agreement she wasn't sure of.

"First we're gonna look a little at your arm," Meredith said. "Then we have to clean it a little with a small napkin. Think you can do that? I'll be here talking to you the whole time."

Jennie eyed her warily but at last she nodded, so little that Meredith almost didn't see it.

"Do you want to sit with me? Or are you good here in your bed?"

"Eh-d," Jennie mumbled and relaxed a little as Meredith took her right hand in hers.

"Ok, then," she said. "Let's roll up your sleeve a little so that we can take a good look at your other arm."

Both she and Derek leaned forward as Jennie reluctantly did as she was told, and inspected her arm very closely. Jennie giggled.

"Hm," Meredith said and let her fingers slide up and down her arm. "Let's see here. What do you say, Dr. Shepherd?"

"Well, Dr. Grey," Derek said seriously, playing along. "I'm not wearing my coat today, but this looks like an arm to me."

Jennie giggled again.

"You not oh-ohr," she said, shaking her head knowingly.

"We're not?" Meredith said surprised.

"No," Jennie said. "You Ah-mmy. And you Ah-ddy."

"Is that so?" Derek said amusedly. "Can you see the blue lines here on your arm, Bug?"

Jennie turned her head and looked down on the arm Derek was holding. She was already much more relaxed, but Meredith knew that that could change in an instant.

"Ee-sh," she said, nodding confidently.

"Those are called veins," Derek told her. "Can you count them for me?"

"Ooh," Jennie said immediately.

"You have one up here too," Derek said and pointed. "Three veins. That's a lot."

"You, Ah-ddy?" Jennie demanded.

"Oh, wanna see mine?" Derek smiled and rolled up his sleeve so that she could see. "How many do I have?"

"One," Jennie replied after having looked carefully at his arm for a moment.

"Wanna hear a story of what I did with a little girl's veins once?" Derek asked.

Jennie looked at him.

"Oh-ey, Ah-ddy," she said, a little wary still.

"I took one of these," Derek said and pointed at a tourniquet that Susan was holding out for him. "And then I put it on her arm, like this." He wrapped it around Jennie's arm with slow, steady movements. "It's for making the vein pop out. Do you feel the pressure?"

"Yeah," Jennie said and looked at her arm with big eyes.

"And then I had to clean her veins a little, because you know what would happen then?"

"What?" Jennie asked as Derek wiped her arm with sterile gauze and antiseptic.

"A butterfly was gonna land there," Derek whispered dramatically.

He held up the tiny I.V. kit for children that with a little imagination indeed looked like a butterfly. Jennie watched it interestedly and then turned to Meredith.

"Ah-mmy, is a ah-ehr-fly."

"I see," Meredith smiled. "Do you think that other little girl liked having it on her arm?"

Jennie wrinkled her nose a little while she thought about it. Then she nodded solemnly.

"I sink so, Ah-mmy."

"You do? Well, look what you've got there," Meredith whispered and nodded at Jennie's other arm, the one Derek had demonstrated at and which Jennie had turned her attention from for a minute.

"Ah-ehr-fly!" Jennie called when she saw it.

"And look," Derek said, showing her the little paper towel he'd placed around it. "It even has its own blanket."

Jennie turned to look at Meredith, who was about to put on her coat because now it was high time to get going if she wanted to pick up Josie in a reasonably time.

"Ah-mmy?" she asked. "I need no eeh-dle?"

Meredith hid a smile. She bent down over Jennie and kissed her on the forehead.

"I think the butterfly will do," she said.

A few minutes later, she nodded politely to a few nurses in the stairs and walked out to the parking lot. She hoped they would be able to take Jennie home pretty soon. Staying more than three days for a shunt insertion wasn't usual, but both she and Derek hesitated to let her leave as long as that persistent fever still lingered. She hoped it was just a matter of time until it budged, or they would have to start looking for a cause for it now that the shunt infection had been treated.

She had to really concentrate to remember where she'd parked the car this morning and when she finally localized it, she had to fight the urge to just put her head down at the steering wheel and close her eyes. She had no time for that, especially since she knew how terrible traffic could be this time of the day and she didn't want to keep Josie waiting. She had a bad enough conscience towards her older daughter as it was.

The nights they spent just the two of them while Derek sat with Jennie could have been a chance for Josie to get that bit of extra attention that she often had to miss out on. It was just that she was so tired. After spending her work shift catching up with what she'd missed the hours she'd taken off, she barely had the energy to cook, even less to engage in some activity more than falling asleep in front of the T.V. It was as if Josie somehow sensed this, because she was even more quiet as usual. She kept close to Meredith but refrained from demanding anything from her and barely shrugged when Meredith suggested take-out for the second day in a row, something that usually would have her delighted. Derek had told her he'd taken her out for ice cream the other night but that she'd still been subdued without wanting to tell him what bothered her.

By the time she reached Lexie, she felt more tired than she ever thought possible. Josie buried her face into her chest the minute she stepped over the threshold and Meredith had to gently release her grip and puff her to go get her things.

"Thanks for watching her, Lex," she said when Josie reluctantly disappeared.

"Sure," Lexie shrugged. "Josie is so easy. But actually, Mer, she seemed a little under the weather today. She said she was ok, but she was quieter than usual. Did you notice anything this morning?"

"No, she seemed fine," Meredith sighed. "Now would be a bad time to come down with something."

"Maybe it's nothing," Lexie hurried to say. "It probably isn't, you know. How's Jennie?"

"She's doing fine," Meredith nodded. "Seems like routine all way so far. I think we'll have her home again in a few days."

"That's great," Lexie said gently. "Tell her I pop in and say hi tomorrow. Do you and Derek need me to watch Josie another afternoon or do you have your shifts down?"

"I think we're good, actually," Meredith said after a moment's calculating. "Derek has the afternoon off both tomorrow and the day after."

"Ok," Lexie said. "Just call me if anything changes."

"Thanks, Lex," Meredith said again, feeling genuinely grateful for having a network close by. Derek's mom and sisters, though all careful to keep in touch often, all lived so far away.

They drove home in silence. Josie wasn't a very talkative child even at her best, but she usually savored the moments she got with Meredith or Derek alone. Her silence told Meredith Lexie hadn't been totally wrong and that made her concerned.

"Is everything ok?" she asked.

Josie merely nodded without looking at her and she decided to wait until they got home to push the subject further.

"I'll get started with some pasta," she said neutrally. "Do you have homework?"

"I already did it," Josie replied.

"Fine," Meredith said, smiling a little. "I'll check it for you later."

Putting the water to boil at the stove and opening up the can of pesto was nothing more than autopilot movements and once she'd set the timer, she went straight out to the living room and plopped down at the couch. In her head, she went over the mental list over what she had to do to make the following days work. Update the preschool. Ask Sophie to come visit later in the week. Bring some new clothes to the hospital. Bribe April to bring some of those slobbery chocolate cups that were currently Jennie's favorites. Recheck with Avery that he was fine to take her shift on Wednesday. Check on Josie.

She really hoped Josie wasn't actually coming down with a cold in the middle of everything. She tried her best to give both her children equal attention, but she knew Josie sometimes had to step back when she and Derek had to focus on Jennie. She didn't like it and she knew Derek too felt bad every time it happened. But this was such a time. If Josie needed something, it would not only make whatever she did unfair to both children, it would also screw up the careful plans and arrangements she and Derek had prepared.

The slow sound of Josie's steps over the floor made her open her eyes. She was twirling a dark lock with her left finger and weighing almost only on her left foot, like she was contemplating whether or not sitting down next to her on the couch.

"Hungry?" Meredith asked, but only got a shrug back. "Lexie said you didn't seem to feel well," she went on. "Does it feel like you have a fever?"

"No," Josie murmured but Meredith saw that her eyes glistened with tears that were only moments from welling up.

She reached out her hand and patted on the spot beside her on the couch.

"Come here," she said and put her arm around Josie when she did as she was told. "Will you tell me what's wrong?"

"I have a stomach ache," Josie whispered and swallowed a sob.

"You don't feel warm," Meredith said after cupping Josie's face in her hands and pressing gently at her forehead. "Were you worried about something?"

There had been several times when Josie's shyness and reluctance of everything new had expressed themselves as stomach aches and once or twice as bad as occasional throw-ups. It had been a learning process, and taken a couple of pediatric check-ups, for Meredith and Derek to realize that Josie wasn't a sickly child. Relieved as they were that the occurring aches didn't imply any serious health problem, it still pained Meredith that social encounters were so hard on their daughter that they even manifested themselves physically.

Josie bit her lip. "How's Jennie?" she asked quietly.

Meredith blinked, unprepared for the question. She silently cursed herself for not recognizing that Josie needed to know what was going on. Ever since Jennie was born, it had been a part of Josie's everyday life that her sister went in and out for check-ups and therapies and evaluations and somehow, that made Meredith forget that she didn't know everything she and Derek did. Seeing Jennie being admitted to the hospital after what seemed like a usual cold and having all routines shatter in a blink must be confusing and scary.

"Jennie's absolutely fine," she told Josie. "You know how she's been having a shunt in her head?"

Josie nodded hesitantly.

"Everybody has fluid in their brains and usually, that fluid takes care of itself," Meredith explained as simple as she could. "Jennie's doesn't, so the shunt does that for her. If it stops working, she will get dizzy and get headaches and then she has to go to the hospital to put in a new one."

"That's what she did now?"

"Yeah," Meredith confirmed. "And everything went very well. They're keeping her at the hospital a couple of days to keep an eye on the shunt so that it really works before she can go home. But she's fine. A little tired, of course, but you know what she did first thing when she woke after the surgery?"

"What?" Josie said, smiling a little.

"She asked when we would get her ice cream."

Josie giggled. "So she's fine," she said, partly to Meredith, partly to herself.

"I'm sorry that me or Daddy didn't talk to you about this before," Meredith said, watching her cautiously. "We should have."

"Ok," Josie said, looking down in her lap.

"You can ask me anything now though," Meredith promised.

"Is it always gonna be like this if she gets a headache?" Josie asked uncertainly.

"No," Meredith replied. "She might have headaches sometimes anyway. It may be the shunt, but it doesn't have to be something wrong with it. Or it can be just a usual headache too."

"Then how do you know?" Josie sounded worried. "What if you miss it?"

"Well, there are other things to look for too. It can be tricky, but at some point, you know when it doesn't feel right."

"I don't," Josie pointed out, biting her lip. "What if I miss it?"

"It's not your job," Meredith assured her. "We don't expect you to. We'll be there. Ok?"

"Ok," Josie conceded.

They sat in silence for a while. Josie curled up against her and Meredith absentmindedly kept stroking her hand through her curls while she tried to think of a way to convince Josie that the expectations she and Derek had weren't all that high as the ones she set for herself.

"Was that what you worried about?" she asked softly, observing Josie closely. "Jennie? Was she the only reason?"

She could tell by the way Josie tensed that she wasn't completely way off. There was something else bothering her. And as surprised as she'd been when Josie had asked about her sister, as sure she felt about the other reason.

"Is it school?" she asked carefully.

Josie sighed and buried her head against her chest so that she only could see her eyes. "I don't want to go," she mumbled in her shirt.

Meredith felt herself running out of steam. They hadn't had this discussion for awhile now and she'd really hoped they wouldn't have to. Josie had been having trouble adjusting to school when she first started. They'd really taken their time to choose one that they liked and they'd taken Josie there in the summer to let her get familiar with the surroundings. Josie had hid behind Derek most of the time and refused to talk to Miss Thompson, an enthusiastic, upbeat teacher that had told them this would be her second class. She'd taken no offense by Josie's reluctance to her eager tries to engage her in the classroom activities and assured Meredith and Derek that some kids took a while to warm up.

Meredith remembered thinking that an older and more experienced teacher would have been a better fit, but she must admit Miss Thompson had done everything to make Josie comfortable in class. But even though she did great academically, Meredith and Derek both were concerned about the fact that she'd made little success in making close friends. Josie herself didn't seem to mind that much; once she'd settled in, she was usually content with the way things were.

This year though, it had been a little different. Granted, it had been a change in routine since Jennie now went to the same school, but Meredith failed to see how that would bother Josie so much. Only a few weeks into the semester though, she'd repeatedly communicated that she wasn't happy. At first, it was just the occasional stomach ache and a slightly less enthusiastic attitude in the mornings. With time, she'd grown more quiet. She'd never once asked to stay home from school, but she'd started begging for them to pick her up early. But she told them nothing, no matter how many times they tried to ask her what was wrong.

"Did something happen?" Meredith tried, not able to hold back a tired sigh. She sat up a little straighter and removed her arm around Josie so that she could put it under her chin and see her face. "Mm?" she prompted.

Josie irked away from her hand and crawled up into a sitting position. She didn't meet her mother's eye when she started chewing her nails, knowing very well what Meredith thought of that particular habit.

"I..." she whispered hoarsely but was abruptly broken off by the shrill sound of the telephone.

Meredith froze and looked indecisively between the telephone and Josie. She cursed whoever had chosen just this moment to call them, but the constant echoing throughout the otherwise silent house was unnerving and she sighed and untangled herself from Josie.

"I'd better take it," she said apologetically and lifted the cordless phone from its dock. "It might be the hospital."

"Mer?" she heard Derek say.

"Hey," she sighed. "Everything's ok?"

"Jennie's fine," Derek replied. "A little bored maybe. But I need you to come to the hospital."

"Why? What happened?" Meredith positioned the phone between her shoulder and her ear and quickly went over what complications may have arisen from a craniotomy. She smiled absentmindedly at Josie who was still seated on the couch and walked into the kitchen to have the conversation in private. "Do you need to scrub in?"

"Motorcycle accident," Derek confirmed. "Guy needs an emergency craniotomy. Matthews is on call but didn't think he would be out of surgery until eleven."

"Ok," Meredith said tiredly, already resigning to the fact that she had to get out again this night. "I'm on my way. What about Josie?"

"Drop her off at Alex's," Derek suggested. "I won't be all night. You'll be able to take her home later."

"She's been asking for Jennie," Meredith said, turning off the stove and placing the saucepan with almost boiling water in the sink. "She was worried. I didn't realize we didn't tell her what was going on."

"Then bring her," Derek said. "They cheer each other up."

"Ok, ok," Meredith agreed, opening the fridge and grabbing two apples. "See you in ten."

Not ten, but fifteen minutes later, Meredith turned into the hospital's parking lot and did a sloppy halt into the first free slot. Josie hadn't protested when she suddenly found herself commanded to get herself ready for a night at the hospital. She had obediently gone upstairs to change into something more comfortable while Meredith made sure she had everything they needed to go. Rather than rushing around the house to get all the things she had been meaning to get Jennie the next morning, she had thought it more important not to keep Derek waiting longer than necessary.

When they entered the ground floor, Meredith remembered with a pang just how miserable Jennie had been when they took her here on Sunday.

"Uh-rts, uh-rts," she'd whimpered repeatedly where she'd been draped over Derek's shoulder until they'd gotten a nurse to get her a bed, and even then, she hadn't been able to stop crying.

It had pained Meredith to see her like that, because she knew how Jennie usually acted whenever she walked through the halls of the hospital; running before Meredith to push the elevator button, or eagerly greeting the nurses she recognized.

Even though Josie had been inside Seattle Grace uncountable times, she did nothing of this. Instead she fell in step with Meredith, clutching to the backpack she'd stuffed with a book and, on Meredith's insistence, a warmer sweater if it would be cold later in the night.

"Mom?" Josie said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

Josie swallowed. "I'm nervous," she admitted.

"I can see that," Meredith said gently. "You don't have to be."

"How will she look?" Josie timidly asked, leaning against the far wall as she counted the levels they went up.

"She wears a bandage over her head," Meredith answered. "She might be a little tired and sore. But other than that, she's pretty much the same."

Derek had pulled some strings and got Jennie a room close to the nurses' station, yet pretty secluded from bypassing people's insight. When they stepped inside, Jennie was sitting upright in her bed, playing for herself with two small pony figurines that looked like they came from a vending machine. Derek sat on the chair next to her bed still dressed in his street clothes and browsed aimlessly through an evening paper.

"Hey," Meredith said. She took off her coat and draped it over the extra chair at the bathroom door. Derek stood, folded his paper and quickly kissed her.

"Hey," he replied. "Thanks for coming." He turned to Josie, who stood behind Meredith, still in her jacket. "Hey, Jo. How was your day?"

Meredith shook her head warningly, but Derek only raised his eyebrows at her and Josie merely shrugged.

"I got an A on my English spelling test," she said.

"You didn't tell me that," Meredith interjected.

"That's my girl," Derek smiled. "Jennie had her dinner and the six o'clock medication," he went on, turned to Meredith. "The incision site looks good."

"Ok," Meredith said and gave him a lopsided smile. "We'll be fine. Now go save a life."

"Ah-mmy, Ah-ddy had to do uh-gehr-y," Jennie said seriously when Derek had taken off down the corridor to change and scrub in.

"Yeah, he did" Meredith agreed. "Did you see who I brought?"

Jennie nodded. "Hi, Oh-sie," she said and waved a little with her left hand, the one without a needle. "I ah-ve oh-rses." She held out the ponies for them both to see.

Josie took a few steps so that she stood closer to the bed's edge. "Do they have names?" she asked.

Meredith smiled as her daughters immediately got into an important discussion about the pretend world for the little plastic toys Alex had given Jennie when he popped in earlier in the day between his surgeries. Josie's initial uncertainty was wearing off as she saw her sister playing as usual. She let go of her backpack and sat down on the edge of the bed, wiped a strand of her hair and with all the superiority of a big sister graciously allowed Jennie to name both horses.

Jennie looked no different from when she had left her a few hours ago and Meredith was happy to see the spark in her eyes back again. It wasn't just a difference from the last days when she'd been sick and listless, but from several weeks back. The change had been subtle, but looking back, she could see all the signs of a shunt malfunction – the loss of appetite, the sensitivity to lights, the unusual tiredness – slowly culminating in the acute symptoms of the weekend.

"No," Jennie said loudly and pouted at her sister. "I ah-ve black."

"But you said you wanted the brown," Josie pointed out. "You can't have both."

"Ah-ex ih-ved me," Jennie reasoned and her high-pitched voice told Meredith it was time to step in and break up the fight that was about to break loose.

"Jennie, what do you say we see a movie?" she said brightly, reaching out for the plastic toys and placing them on the nightstand table.

"No," Jennie said and glared at her. "Mine."

Meredith sighed. "They're yours. Nobody's gonna take them. They just need to rest a little, see?"

Jennie shook her head and put her lower lip out while crossing her arms the way she'd seen Meredith do many times when she'd argued. "No."

"Jennie," Meredith said patiently. "I bet the ponies want to see a movie too. You can have them then. I go get your chair and we'll show Josie all movies they have out there."

"No," Jennie replied stubbornly, but seemed to accept the idea of letting the ponies argument go for a while and just changing the battle. "I walk."

Meredith just shook her head. "You're not wearing your braces. And you can't risk falling right after your surgery."

To her relief, Jennie seemed to actually give in to this. She sat up a little straighter, reluctantly reaching her arms up for Meredith to lift her into the chair. Meredith had to stifle a laugh at the demonstrative sigh and explicit eye-rolling that came with this surrender. She smoothed down the hospital gown that eased up when she placed Jennie in her chair and dragged her fingers through her hair, that was a little matted from being flattened against the pillows for so long.

"Do you want to get your own pajamas on? And maybe tomorrow we can give you a bath."

Jennie turned in her chair. "Oh-sie uhp-sh me," she declared, seemingly having forgotten their fight.

As Josie stopped pushing Jennie's chair in front of the DVD shelf, Meredith left them temporarily to quickly check the little kitchen down the hall. It was for families to cook or store various foods in while they stayed with their children. Derek had scribbled their name on one of the boxes inside the fridge and she opened the lid to reveal a couple of broiled hot dogs and some leftover scrambled eggs. None of it appealed to Meredith the least and she guessed Derek hadn't had much time for cooking or this wouldn't have been his choice of dinner either. She'd have to make a quick raid to the cafeteria later and pick up something for them to eat.

When she made her way back to where she'd left the girls, they were no longer alone. A tall nurse had crouched beside Jennie's chair and talked to both her and Josie. Jennie chatted happily, but Josie stood quiet and stiff behind the chair and Meredith saw her hands gripping tightly around its handles.

"Is my ih-ster," she heard Jennie say as she got closer.

"Your sister?" the nurse echoed and tilted her head. "Have you been to a hospital before?" she asked Josie with a smile.

Meredith gave Josie a moment, but when she didn't reply to the nurse's question, she stepped in and put her arms around Josie's shoulders.

"You've been here a lot, right, Josie? That's what happens when you get stuck with two doctors for parents." She smiled at the nurse. Josie nodded shyly and leaned into her and Meredith brushed her hand up and down her left arm. "Did you agree on a movie?"

"Yeah," Jennie told her. She held up the cover and Meredith saw the familiar picture of the two dogs and the cat in _The Incredible Journey. _Josie had seen it several times, but she was unsure if Jennie ever had.

"Is that ok, Jo?" she asked and when her oldest daughter nodded obediently, she took them back to the room that had served for Jennie's home the past days.

She lifted Jennie up onto the bed before rummaging in the almost empty hospital locker for a change of pajamas for her. She was surprised Jennie hadn't begged to have the hospital gown removed before and she felt a pang of guilt at how miserable she must have felt when they brought her in. Every other time she was asked to put one on at their regular visits to her pediatric team check-ups, she used to protest loudly.

She raised the head rest of the bed and undid the knot in the back of the hospital gown.

"Can you sit on the edge for me?" she asked, thinking it would be a lot easier to slid on the pants that way. Jennie sighed a little, but used her good hand to swing her legs the right way. Meredith grabbed her waist and helped her the last bit. Clad only in panties that Meredith had made her change this morning, she raised her hands the best she could over her head for Meredith to slip the shirt on.

"Oh-nt touch my eeh-dle," she said irritably as Meredith carefully eased the light blue pajamas over her head, doing her best not to rub the bandage that was draped around it or the needle on her hand. She was glad Derek had thought to bring this one that Jennie had always liked because the top had a print of a little kitten playing with its own tail.

As soon as she was dressed, Jennie scooted over a little in her bed, patting the spot next to her.

"Oh-sie oh-nna sit," she said, looking defiantly at Meredith as if she thought she would protest. There was no reason though. They were both tiny and would have no problem fit in the bed together.

"Just make sure you're on her other side so you don't brush her needle," she warned Josie.

She popped in the disc, so worn that its label had almost faded completely, pressed play and placed the remote on the nightstand table. No sooner had she folded the strewn clothes in a neat heap in the chair by the bathroom, did the door open and a tall man in red hair and a white coat popped in his head.

"Hey," he said in a cheerful tone. "I hope this isn't a bad time?"

"As good as ever," Meredith replied, recognizing him as Dr. Lennon, a pediatrician and a recent addition to Jennie's medical team. She found his choice of time to pop in to visit odd, but smiled at him nonetheless as he went over to the bed. Jennie and Josie had stared curiously at the unexpected visitor as he first entered, but almost immediately returned their interest at the screen.

"Hi, Jennie," he greeted her. "I bet you don't remember me, but I was in on your surgery. How's your head?"

"Mm," Jennie nodded, her eyes transfixed on the screen. "Is fixed."

"Is that so," Dr. Lennon said amusedly as he carefully felt with his fingers over the incision site.

"My oh-ohrs fix me," Jennie explained and turned her head by reflex when the doctor touched a tender spot. "Not touch," she grumbled.

"Ok," Dr. Lennon agreed and let go of her. "It looks like your scar is healing nicely, that's good. I need to talk to your mommy for a little while. What do you say we do it outside so that you can watch your movie?" He turned to Meredith. "Dr Grey, a word?"

Meredith frowned, but nodded and followed him out of the room. She and Derek had both meant to speak to the doctors performing Jennie's shunt replacement, but she'd been on the phone, just coming through to the school after twenty minutes waiting, when they did afternoon rounds. Derek hadn't mentioned if any of the doctors had had concerns, though. As far as they both could tell, it had been textbook procedure.

"I hope you don't mind me coming barging in this late," Dr. Lennon said apologetically. "It's just that I'm on call and you know how that is if it's a slow night." He smiled reassuringly. "I haven't got a chance to meet with Jennie before but when I was rounding on her earlier, I was happy to get a little chat with her."

"Yeah," Meredith said, unsure of what he was after. "It's great to see how much better she seems today, talking with the nurses almost as usual. She's always recovered well."

"I got a little concerned about her speech, though," Dr. Lennon said, looking at Meredith as to gauge her reaction. "As you said, she was happy to talk but I must admit I had trouble understanding her." He paused for a moment. "How does it work for her in school, among her peers?"

"Well," Meredith said slowly, a little taken aback by where the conversation was going. "She's doing fine in school, but of course there are communication difficulties from time to time." She bit her lip, weighing her words. Despite being new to this team, Dr. Lennon surely had been working for a lot longer time than herself. "We understand her well at home, of course," she added, "but we were actually rather surprised that spina bifida could affect speech this severely."

The older doctor nodded thoughtfully. "Does she receive any speech therapy?"

Meredith nodded. "She goes regularly, but we're actually not very happy with the help she gets there. She's had three different therapist since she got started; one of them went on maternity leave and then there's been reorganizations."

"So you say there's been no progress?"

Meredith chewed on her lip and considered the question. "I wouldn't say that exactly. But I don't think it's a result of the therapy she gets. Her pronunciation doesn't really get better. We've actually been asking for an evaluation for her, but so far, we haven't been getting one."

She met the older doctor's eye. She'd barely met him before, but there was something about him that she already appreciated; the calm but confident demeanor and the fact that he in a very short amount of time had managed to put in words the concerns she'd been growing for a while.

"It's true that myelomeningocele may come with speech impediments to an extent," Dr. Lennon said. "Still, listening to Jennie, her speech doesn't really follow that pattern. Not only has she got a pronunciation I wouldn't associate with it, she also seems to have trouble with word order and grammar." He took off his glasses and polished them absentmindedly against his coat while he peered at Meredith. "There's a speech therapist that I've been working with in Chicago visiting our team this week. She's very good. I spoke to her earlier today, and she offered to do a few tests."

"Oh?" Meredith replied, a little apprehensively. "What kinds of test?"

"We would perform a neuropsychological evaluation that measures vision and coordination skills, intelligence, and learning problems. There will be both a verbal and a non-verbal part. We'll also collect information from you, her teachers and other adults around her. Both you and Dr. Shepherd are welcome to sit with her during the testing."

"How come no one has brought this up before?" Meredith demanded. She felt a little overwhelmed over this sudden interest in an issue no one else had paid any particular attention to despite their own requests and wasn't really sure what to think.

"I'm not sure," Dr. Lennon admitted. "With Jennie's expressive language ability it should have been considered an issue, especially if she's receiving speech therapy. My best guess is that it is since long attributed the diagnosis of myelomeningocele and then not reconsidered."

"Yeah," Meredith said quietly, smoothing the hem of her shirt in lack of somewhere better to make of her hands. She glanced back into the room where she could see the bed through the slightly open door. Jennie had put her head on Josie's shoulder and looked like she was fighting to stay awake. Even though she hadn't officially agreed to the tests, her mind was already occupied with how well Jennie would do. Dr. Lennon watched her sympathetically.

"I was thinking that now would be a good time," he said gently. "Not only is she already admitted, you would also avoid further waiting on an issue that could be sensitive to time."

"Do you..." Meredith hesitated. "Do you suspect anything in particular?"

Dr. Lennon cocked his head a little and even though he looked nothing like Derek, it reminded Meredith of how her husband often spoke to his patients.

"These tests are not something that will give us all the answers," he replied. "But they might indicate what could be the root of her problems."

"I see," Meredith said, taking a deep breath and trying to collect her thoughts. "Dr. Lennon, I appreciate your concerns and I'm certainly grateful for this opportunity to pinpoint Jennie's problems. I need to speak to my husband first, though, before agreeing to what you suggest."

"But this is something you've been concerned about yourselves?" Dr. Lennon guessed.

"We both have," Meredith confirmed. "And this last year with school transfers and the more outspoken gap between her and her peers has only added to that. I'm sure he will have nothing against it."

Jennie was since long asleep when Derek entered the room a quarter to eleven. Josie sat upright in the spare bed Meredith and Derek had awakened stiff from the past two days. She'd asked Meredith to watch the movie a second time once it had finished, not really willing to fall asleep even though Meredith had told her she could.

Meredith had asked the night shift nurse to keep an eye on the girls when she made a quick dash to the cafeteria to grab something for herself and Josie. Jennie had been offered a night snack as well but by then she'd been too sleepy to even decline and Meredith had taken the opportunity to pause the movie and help her with her toilet procedure before letting her fall asleep to the rest of it.

Even though a day's worth of juggling the practicalities of taking care of everything had certainly worn her out, Meredith hadn't been able to rest properly since her talk with Dr. Lennon. She sat slumped in one of the extra chairs, a book open in her lap and a medical journal on the nightstand table, but unable to concentrate on anything else than her own thoughts.

She didn't know what felt worse; the fact that she'd trusted Jennie's doctors and overlooked her feeling that a speech deficit like this didn't match with her diagnosis, or the fact that she'd somewhere known already but never pushed the issue hard enough. Or maybe the nagging doubt if they'd truly been doing their best by Jennie. While the Himalayan cat on screen kept outscoring the dogs, Meredith stared past them and forced herself back in time.

To when Jennie as a toddler had tugged at their sleeves instead of calling for them. When she'd used gestures and indistinct sounds to indicate what she wanted. How they'd relaxed when support signs had helped her speech little by little. Now she couldn't help but wonder if their relief had only been fooling them. What if they, by getting used to her speech and learning to interpret it, had been doing her a disservice and settled for something they could have worked to improve?

"Hey there," she heard Derek say from the door, speaking in a hushed tone so as not to wake up the children. Even Josie seemed to have fallen into a light slumber with her head tipped slightly to the left and her legs curled up under her. "Everything's ok?" He looked vital enough and had changed back into his dress pants and blue button-down that he'd worn the day before but his eyes told Meredith that he was in need of some sleep as much as ever her.

"Hey," she replied, leaning in slightly to his kiss. "How was your surgery?"

"He'll live," Derek said. "Had to drill four drill holes to relieve the initial pressure but he seemed stable when we closed him. How about you? You looked like you were far away."

Meredith nodded slowly. "A lot to think about," she said, wondering how she would begin. "Dr. Lennon popped in before. He had some concerns about Jennie."

"Concerns?" Derek asked immediately. "Did her pressure increase?"

Meredith shook her head depreciatively, noticing how Derek's voice went from casual, almost a little sleepy, to sharp in the second it took for him to realize what she said. "Not about the surgery." She took a breath, looking for his reaction as she spoke. "About her speech."

Derek frowned. "He's the pediatrician from Chicago? He didn't say anything on rounds."

Meredith shrugged. Derek sighed and carefully put away the clothes before he scooted the remaining chair closer to Meredith's and sat down.

"What did he have?"

"He doesn't think it's consistent with her diagnosis. He wants to do tests."

"Neuropsychological?"

Meredith nodded. She reached for his hand, threading her fingers between his and began to rub her thumb nervously against the back of his hand, but didn't say anything. She'd known him long enough to let him be quiet for as long as he needed.

"Well, we wanted an evaluation," he said tiredly, absentmindedly squeezing her hand in response. "You know we've been wondering."

"I know," Meredith mumbled. "It's just... what if we haven't been pushing this enough? What if there was help to get and we just didn't do it?"

"She's in speech therapy," Derek argued, but it was a lamely attempted defense and he trailed off into another silence before clearing his throat. "Did he mention something? A diagnosis?"

Meredith opened her mouth to answer, but frowned and bit her lip thoughtfully when she tried to recall the doctor's response to her very same question. "No," she said slowly. "He didn't say."

They lingered in silence once more. The same uncertainty and helplessness as the one at their eighteen week ultrasound swirled in Meredith's head and even though this was not as unprepared for, it was still unknown territory spreading out in front of them. Surely there had been many reasons for her to doubt her skills as a mother, but medically, Jennie's spina bifida hadn't actually been one of them. The fact that they were both specialized in just that field made all the medical treatment much less scary, and all the small decisions and letdowns easier to take. But this? This was something else entirely. They didn't even know what it was, much less how to deal with it. And whatever prognosis Dr. Lennon's test would conclude, it would have to be a lot better than that.

"Did everything go ok with the two of them?" Derek asked abruptly, nodding in their children's direction and straightened up from the hunched position he'd taken on as their conversation had carried on.

"Yeah," Meredith said, entangling her fingers from his and smiling slightly. "They played well together for about five minutes and then a movie seemed like the best distraction. But I think it did good for them to see each other."

"We watched Chance and Shadow and Sassy," Josie told Derek sleepily from her bed.

"Hey there," Derek replied after a moment's initial surprise. "So you're awake?" Walking over to her bed, he bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Must have been fun for you, watching a movie you've never seen before," he commented.

"Daddy," Josie giggled.

Meredith pushed herself off her chair and began collecting the things they'd brought. She picked up the few items of clothes that would need laundry and placed them in her shoulder bag as well.

"We should go," she said, turning to Derek.

"Probably best," he agreed. "Or this will be a very sleepy girl tomorrow."

"Will you talk to Dr. Lennon? Give him your consent? He wanted to schedule it while she's still admitted."

Derek closed his eyes for a second, then nodded wearily. "I'll arrange it."

Meredith studied him for a moment. She was sure he would just collapse in the extra bed once she and Josie had closed the door behind them. She only hoped he wouldn't lose too much sleep over what she'd told him. If they were to do this, they would surely need all the energy they could get.

"Sleep well," she said, lifting her hand and stroking his cheek quickly.

"See you tomorrow," he replied, placing his hand on the small of her back and held her against her in half an embrace. She leaned in, and let herself bury her head in the crook of his neck fleetingly. "I love you," he mumbled in her ear.

She nodded, putting her hand on his hip, knowing what more was embedded in those words. We can do this. We're in this together. I know you're scared and so am I but it will be ok. It will be ok.

_A/N – So, hospital visits are never fun when it's your own child. But maybe something good can come out of this, too – even if getting suspicions confirmed are rarely pure joy. What do you think might be the cause of Jennie's speech issues? _


	7. Leave out nothing, tell me everything

_A/N – Ok, time for a new chapter! Best news today is that it's only a week until season 8 kicks off. I'm so looking forward to see what will happen! In the last chapter, Meredith was suggested a test for Jennie and in this chapter, they will go through with it. I researched it quite a lot, but I hope I managed to keep a balance between avoiding to go into much details and still describe it accurately. I guess you simply have to read on to find out! Thank you for all your kind reviews! _

When Meredith arrived a little after nine, breathless and apologetic for not coming sooner, Derek felt like the day had been going on forever already.

"I'm sorry," Meredith said with a grimace as she hung her coat on the hanger and put her shoulder bag on the chair. "I would have been here sooner, but Josie didn't have class until now and refused to go in any earlier than she had to."

"It's ok," Derek assured her. "We're not scheduled to meet with Dr. Parker until ten."

He rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to erase the veil of tiredness. It always seemed to come after a night of more worrying than actual sleep, but he needed to be alert today.

Meredith studied him with a hint of concern in her eyes, but he shrugged, not wanting to voice any uncertainty over the coming tasks in front of Jennie. She held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded slightly and turned to Jennie instead.

"Good morning," she said and smiled at their daughter where she was sitting up in bed, concentrated on coloring on a piece of paper Derek had gotten from the nurses' station. "Did you sleep well?"

"Ee-sh," Jennie nodded and looked up from her work. "I waked eh-fore Ah-ddy."

"Really?" Meredith said. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Yoh-uhrt," Jennie explained. "And aph-ehl ooh-s."

"Yeah, well, I can see that," Meredith smiled, leaning forward and wiping some yogurt from Jennie's cheeks. "Daddy didn't help you wash your face?"

"Believe me, I tried," Derek defended himself. "She wanted to wait for you."

"Ok, then." Meredith lifted her shoulder bag and held out a hand for Jennie. "Bathroom time. I brought you some clothes. Do you want to change?"

Jennie seemed to consider this for a minute. She was still clad in her pajamas even though Derek had put socks on her feet when he had taken her to the bathroom a couple of hours ago. The legs had eased up a little and exposed her ankles.

"Oh-ey," she decided. "Ih-nk shirt."

Meredith put her shoulder bag down on Jennie's covers and started to unload the contents. "I don't think I have the pink shirt," she said. "I have this, though. It's a little pink here in the middle."

She put the gray t-shirt next to the two other ones she'd packed. Jennie studied it hesitantly, but then nodded.

"Ehl-lo Itty ih-nk." She turned to Derek. "Ah-ddy, my Ehl-lo Itty ih-nk on my shirt."

"Yeah, she is," Derek agreed. "Are you going with Mommy in the bathroom now? In a little while we're gonna have to talk to the doctor. Remember I told you that?"

"Yeah. Ah-mmy, she ah-ve ehs-tions."

"She is gonna ask many questions," Meredith nodded. "And I'm sure she doesn't want to see a little girl with yogurt on her face. You ready to go wash it off now?"

Derek watched her carry Jennie into the bathroom. She was still a little unsteady on her feet from having lain in her bed for so long, and they hadn't yet put her braces on. Every time she'd been outside the room, they'd insisted she use the wheelchair. He hoped they would be able to go home tonight or at least tomorrow, getting into some routines again. One of them had to stay with Jennie for the rest of the week, but it would be a step in the right direction.

He started to put away some of the things scattered about in the room, not that there was an apparent mess but he needed something to do with his hands. Through the wall he could hear Meredith talking and their daughter's happy laughter. He wished she would never get a reason to stop being happy.

"Derek, what was her temperature this morning?" Meredith asked as she opened the bathroom door. She held Jennie up on her hip by her left hand and handed him her bag so that she could have both hands free to help her up into the bed again.

"100.1, I think," he replied. "Much better than yesterday. Don't you feel better, Bug?"

Jennie nodded. "I not warm," she said proudly. Meredith had combed her hair and put it in two small pigtails and she looked comfortable in the pair of red sweatpants that she used to wear at home when she was home sick from school.

"That's good," Meredith told her as she lifted her up and sat her on the edge of the bed. "Did Daddy tell you what's gonna happen today?"

"Yeah."

"That we're talking to the doctor?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we are," Derek interjected. "First, me and Mommy are going to talk to her, while you're going to play with Miss Laura, right?"

"No."

"No?" Meredith said. "You're not gonna play?"

"I sink I oh-nna talk ooh," Jennie stated.

"You are," Derek assured her. "After we're done, you're going to talk a lot to the doctor."

"I ah-ve my Ay-tad?"

"I don't think you'll need your iPad, Jen," Meredith said. "The doctor wants to hear you talk, that's why you're meeting with her."

"And eh-st."

"Yeah, that's right, you're gonna do tests too." Meredith sat down on the floor, rolled up the sweatpants legs and began putting Jennie's braces on. Even if she was going to use the wheelchair, it somehow felt a little appropriate to dress her like she was going somewhere.

"I good at eh-sts."

Derek chuckled. He'd tried to downplay the importance of the test situation to her; comparing it to some of the tests they had done in preschool and hoping it would make her cooperate willingly. He didn't think his own reluctance to it had shone through. They needed her to be secure and happy to get results that were a fair assessment to what she could and couldn't do.

As they walked down the corridors to the recreational playroom, Jennie chatted happily and Derek kept finding himself analyze the way she talked. He knew what kind of questions they would get in just a few minutes, and he kept racking his brain for examples and situations that would show Jennie at her best. He hated that they always had to present what problems she had to get the help they had the right to. To them – to doctors, to authorities, the insurance companies, assistive technology companies – she was a diagnosis, a case, a collections of problems and symptoms. She wasn't the bright little girl they knew her to be.

He sighed as he pushed open the door to the playroom and let Jennie wheel her chair in by herself, and immediately caught sight of a slender woman with brown hair combed back in a simple ponytail.

"Hi, Jennie!" she said brightly, getting up from the table where she was sitting together with a few other children. She came forward to meet them and smiled heartily at Meredith and Derek before she squatted down to come eye to eye with Jennie. "Wow, haven't you gotten big since I last saw you. What are you up to these days?"

"Do you remember Miss Laura, Jennie?" Meredith asked her. "She used to play a lot with you when you were little."

Jennie nodded a little hesitantly, putting her hands on the wheels and pulling the chair backwards a few inches so that she was right beside Meredith. She looked curiously at Laura.

"My ah-mmy and my ah-ddy oh-nna talk to my oh-ohr," she informed her. "So I pway eh-re."

"Yeah, so I heard," Laura replied. "I think we're gonna have a lot of fun. Do you wanna start color a bit? Or play with the dolls over there? They have a lot of medicines and needles they need to get."

"Ah-mmy? I pway dolls?"

"Sure you can," Meredith said. "You'll be ok playing here for a while? Me and Daddy will come get you when we're done talking, ok?"

Jennie nodded again, looking between Meredith and Laura but did no effort to move anywhere.

"Hey, Bug," Derek said and knelt in front of the chair. "We're gonna be right in the next room. You can always ask Miss Laura to come get us, ok?" He smiled and leaned a little forward as to tell her something secret. "I'm afraid it's gonna be really boring in there, though. You're gonna have so much more fun out here. It's a little unfair."

That let go of her uncertainty. She giggled happily and let Laura push her chair to the large table in the middle of the room with a mere wave goodbye.

Derek couldn't help but appreciate how smooth that had gone. With Josie, they would have had to coax and boost until they since long had gotten tired of their own supportive voices. Jennie had always taken it better being left by other people, but he'd anticipated more work getting her comfortable here, seeing as it was right after a surgery and with a woman she could hardly remember. Jennie seemed to thrive in hospital environment, though. Not that she always was content and happy, nor was she the perfect patient, but he was pretty sure she felt secure here. She knew most of the nurses. She loved the attention she got whenever someone knocked on her door. She even endured the procedures without too much complaint, so getting to play and have fun for a little while might not seem like the worst thing.

Laura was the recreational therapist they'd been recommended when Jennie was just an infant and she had been working with her during her first years, and paid occasional visits while Jennie was enrolled in the hospital's daycare. Jennie had loved her back then, and Derek had always felt good about leaving her with Laura, whose enthusiasm and playfulness didn't lead him to doubt how professional and determined she was to work hard with the children.

"She'll be ok, right?" Meredith said as they walked out of the room to meet with Dr. Parker.

"Yeah," he agreed. "She's ok. I told Laura what she needed to know earlier this morning when I asked her to see Jennie today."

He took a glance at his wristwatch. Just a few minutes before ten; they could easily enter the open door before them. Meredith grabbed his hand as they approached it and his stomach churned at the thought that her feelings in this moment surely were his. He squeezed it back, trying to mediate something back to her. I know. I'm afraid too.

"Dr. Shepherd, Dr. Grey," the raven haired Chicago native greeted them as they stepped into her office. She had dark eyes and reminded Derek a little of Callie Torres. He'd heard a lot of good about this therapist, the little he'd been able to pull up on her since Dr. Lennon had approached Meredith a couple of days ago. "I'm glad you could join me today."

"Well, we're grateful to get the opportunity," Meredith said before he could come up with a reply. "A little nervous, though," she added and gave her a small smile.

Seeing her gazing at the office, Dr. Parker gestured towards the couch at the far wall.

"This is not where I'll be talking to Jennie," she said as if she knew what Meredith must be thinking. The office wasn't strict, but it had nothing to entertain a child and didn't seem like the place to tempt a little girl into playful test situations. "I was thinking you and me could talk in here, but if you prefer, we could always go find a conference room."

"No, it's fine," Derek said a little impatiently. "Here's fine. Jennie's in the room next door. We'd like to be close if she needs us."

"Of course," Dr. Parker said, smiling sympathetically. "Please sit down. I'd like to start by taking some basic history about Jennie's situation at home and in school, and then we're gonna go more into detail about her development."

Derek tried to focus on the therapist as she carefully asked them about Jennie's current shortcomings. He and Meredith did their best to answer as honestly as they could, now and then looking at each other for support. Derek felt a surge of thankfulness that they'd managed to build such a team during the years; fighting together, filling in each other's sentences. He supposed he used to have that with Addison too, but he couldn't really remember a situation where it had been put to the test like this.

While racking his brain to come up with answers to what food Jennie did and didn't eat, or what kind of surgeries she'd had, Derek couldn't help but wonder instead of how she was doing together with Laura. It was so easy slipping into the medical jargon and focus solely on the facts and hard observations, but what really mattered, he thought, was how all of it affected her as a person.

He heard Meredith explain in detail what signs Jennie used when she needed to clarify her speech, but instead of joining her, he thought of the memories her words awoke. How he'd told her good night stories with shadow figures on the wall. How Jennie proudly told him they had a secret language. Even though he wanted nothing more for her than to be able to speak in a way people understood, her special way of talking was one of the things that made her who she was. He would miss it.

"Would you say Jennie is able to listen and follow what someone else tells her?" Dr. Parker asked.

"Yes," Meredith said. "That has never been a problem."

"So you would say she's able to interpret auditive information and remember it correctly?"

"Yes."

Derek knew that Dr. Parker tried to differentiate possible diagnoses. He already knew she would not have any luck with questions about hearing impairments or attention deficits, but he answered them anyway. When the speech therapist was convinced that their daughter's pragmatic conversation skills were intact and that she had no problems with abstract concepts, she shifted to questions about her speech.

"I already heard Jennie talk, and got the impression she doesn't really speak in full sentences. Is that correct? No pronouns, auxiliaries, prepositions, things like that?"

Meredith shook her head. "I mean, she has some of it, but she uses them infrequently, and not always correctly. It's still a lot of nouns."

"And how does she use inflections?"

"Not much. Maybe not at all, except things she repeats from us. She can use an inflected word incorrectly, too. She doesn't seem to know the idea of them."

"How would you describe her pronunciation and vocabulary?"

"She has pretty many words by now," Derek said. "It took her time, but she developed pretty quickly about a year ago. But she doesn't always pronounce them correct."

"She's a bit hard to decipher," Meredith agreed. "And sometimes she mixes words up, choosing words or sounds that are not correct."

"She replaces sounds," Derek added. "I'm not sure if she can hear that she's doing that herself; if she hears the difference."

Dr. Parker nodded and made some notes in her chart. "Does she have any problems swallowing or chewing? With drooling?"

"Yes," Meredith confirmed. "She wasn't very interested in eating before. We mostly gave her soft foods that were easier for her to get down. Her former speech therapist tried some practices with her." She shrugged a little. "I don't know if that was what helped, but it got better over time. Now she eats much of what we do, although there are still things we have to cut or mix for her."

"I see," Dr. Parker nodded. "And what about her motor activity? Have you noticed ataxia?"

"We have," Derek confirmed. "But that's due to her spina bifida diagnosis. She has fine motor issues, but they are getting better for each period she's evaluated." He looked briefly at Meredith. "She seems to have decreased mouth sensory, though. Doesn't use her lips much. It's getting better too, but it's apparent."

Dr. Parker listened to their description and took notes while doing so. "You said she sometimes mixes words up," she said. "Do you see a pattern in this? Is she aware that words consist of different sounds?"

"I actually haven't seen a pattern," Meredith said and frowned. "She uses to stubble when she tries to say the same sound again and again, or when she has to change sounds quickly. It's like she's searching around for the right way to say it."

"She's inconsistent, too," Derek interjected. "Sometimes she can say a word correctly, but then mess it up in a sentence. I don't know if you can call it good or bad days with her intelligibility, but she doesn't always do it the same way from one day to another."

Finally, when Dr. Parker seemed satisfied with their answers, she went on to research Jennie's development since infancy.

"I'd like to talk a little about her early years," she said. "But first, it would be good if you could provide a list of family, friends and teachers that I can contact for more information." She saw Derek exchange a look with Meredith, and nodded gently. "You have been very helpful, but to help Jennie get the very best help we could give her, we'd like input from everyone who deals with her and can give us perspectives that you can't."

Derek nodded, and reached for the pen and paper Dr. Parker held out for him. He wrote down his mother, Richard and Adele, Mark, Lexie, April and Alex, Helen at the preschool, some of the therapist that had been closely working with her lately, Owen and Cristina, and the daycare at the hospital. He also added some of the children at the preschool that Jennie used to play with the most, as well as Josie's name, even though he doubted the therapist would really contact seven-year old children to interview them.

He heard her ask about Jennie's first year and Meredith tell her about the endless infections she'd had and how that had made an eligible excuse for the fact that she hadn't made a lot of sounds at all. Their pediatrician had told them to be patient. She'd been through a lot. She was still struggling. She would catch up.

"She never struck us like a child not interested in us," Meredith said. "She followed us, smiled at us. She just didn't make a lot of sounds." She looked pleadingly at Derek, who nodded, and squeezed her hand.

Dr. Parker nodded and took some notes. "Ok," she said gently. "What about when she got a little older? How did she express herself? Gestures? Words?"

Derek tried to remember Jennie as a toddler. She had been a funny kid, always wanting to tag along, see what they were doing. She never liked being left alone. He knew Meredith had complained over never being able to just leave her playing on her own while she needed to get something off her hands. She had been so close to them; he didn't really remember it as if they had trouble interpreting her.

"She had almost no words," he said quietly. "She was eager to communicate. But I guess she mostly gestured, or pointed. A few sounds maybe, that we learned what they meant."

"She wanted to communicate," Dr. Parker commented. "From that, I guess she wasn't a quiet and introvert child? Did she imitate?"

Derek thought of Josie, so shy around others already when she was little. Jennie had been the total opposite, always interested in watching other children play. If he or Meredith just helped her to interact with them, she was happy to join as best as she could.

"No, she was very outgoing," he replied. "But no, she didn't imitate either. Didn't seem to use her mouth very much at all, actually.

Dr. Parker nodded and looked through her papers. Derek saw that she seemed to have some kind of check list on a sheet where a few of the bullets were checked already, but he wasn't sure if that was a positive thing or not. He felt overwhelmed by looking back like this and seeing all points where their daughter failed to meet her developmental milestones. Even if they worried all those times they noted she really didn't follow the other children, it was all too easy to think of it like separate things. Something caused by her spina bifida. Things she would catch up with later. It was something else entirely to see it like this, neatly piled up for the doctor in him to see the anomalies in her behavior.

"Let's move on," Dr. Parker suggested. "Did you see any improvement in her speech over time? Did she talk spontaneously?"

"Not really," Derek replied, even though he ached having to endlessly talk about the things his little girl _couldn't_ do.

Meredith kept telling Dr. Parker about how they had started to teach Jennie sign language, but his thoughts were already at the test prepared for Jennie for later. He hoped there would be things she would succeed in doing. He hated that she might would feel like there were things expected from her that she couldn't do.

"So you would say she used gestures more than speech in her communication," Dr. Parker concluded. "How well was she understood by other people?"

Derek looked at his wife. "I guess it depended," he said. "People she knew and saw often, like our friends, were no problem. They got accustomed like we did and learned to sign a little." He rubbed his eyes with his right hand. "Her friends at daycare were fine too."

"And people outside your inner circle?" Dr. Parker prodded gently.

"They didn't understand her," Meredith said flatly.

Dr. Parker was quiet for a minute, browsing through her notes, and Derek suppressed a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a second. It had been quite a painful process, realizing that words didn't come as easily for his second child as he somehow had expected, and already experienced with Josie. Her language development had thrilled him, amused him, and surprised him constantly during her toddler years. He'd loved to hear her made up words and new expressions that even though they were wrong somehow made a lot of sense. But none of that had come with Jennie. She still struggled with the basics.

"At what age would you say something happened? When did she go from having few words and mostly signs to how she communicates today?" Dr. Parker looked attentively at them, ready to scribble down their answers on the sheet before her.

Meredith bit her lip and looked at Derek for support. "Around three, I think," she said slowly. "Yeah, three. I remember, because that was the time we started thinking about preschool, and at her IEP, the teachers pointed that out for us."

It had happened slowly; looking back, Derek wouldn't be able to pinpoint when her vocabulary had extended until she didn't have to repeat herself all the time, or when they didn't get stuck at signs they didn't knew. The most obvious change was the lack of frustration they had seen for so long. She'd always been a happy kid, but they hadn't been able to deny the fits of anger she could threw out of disappointment when they didn't interpret her correctly. Meredith had more than once told Derek that the terrible twos for Jennie hadn't concerned independence in the same way it did to most kids, but this simple request for a working communication.

They spent a while longer in Dr. Parker's office, but when they were done, they both stood. Dr. Parker shook hands first with Meredith, then Derek and smiled gently.

"I'm going to talk to Jennie in 15 minutes or so," she said. "One of you, or both if you like, are welcome to join the testing. It would be good for Jennie to have someone she relies on, and it would be easier for me to talk to you about my evaluation."

Meredith and Derek looked at each other.

"I... I'm scheduled for a craniotomy in an hour," Meredith said hesitantly. "I thought we would be back at work today, Derek, I'm sorry." She swallowed. "I'll cancel," she offered. "Maybe Dr. Nelson could take it, or Dr. Avery, if he's not off today."

"Meredith," Derek said and put his hand on her arm. "Relax. I can sit with Jennie during the testing. There's no need for us to both be there. I'd rather you do the craniotomy and then take Jennie home tonight."

Meredith bit her lip, weighing on her right foot as if she didn't know what to do with her left. "Are you sure?" she said quietly. "It doesn't feel right to just leave her."

"We'll be fine," Derek assured her. "I'll be there with her. Think of how happy she'll be to come home tonight with all of us there."

Meredith nodded silently. She still looked dubious; whether it was because she doubted his quality of cheerleader or if she simply regretted missing out of it for herself, he didn't know.

"Ok," she said at last. "If you're sure. Let's go get Jen."

When they entered the playroom, they found Jennie happily engaged in coloring a large sheet of paper. Her hands were covered in red, blue and yellow fingerpaint and she giggled each time she dipped her index finger onto the paper to draw a figure.

"Well, someone's having fun," Derek commented and winked at her when she looked up from her paper.

"Ah-ddy, my ah-nds!" Jennie stretched her hands up in the air and smiled broadly, but when she was about to put them on her wheelchair to make her way over to them. Derek quickly walked over to the table instead.

"No, no, don't put your hands on the chair before you've washed them," he warned. "What do you have there?"

"Is a sea, Ah-ddy," Jennie said eagerly, and started to point out the various sea animals she'd created.

"A shark and a whale," Derek commented and raised his eyebrows. "It seems pretty dangerous waters for your little fishes to be in."

Laura laughed. She was sitting next to Jennie, decorating small cups with blue paint and small white stars. "Jennie absolutely wanted to do a sea landscape. I'm thinking maybe it has something to do with a certain Disney movie?"

"Eh-mo!" Jennie exclaimed.

Meredith smiled. She came over to the table and crouched down so that she came eye to eye with Jennie. "Do you think it's ok to finish it later?" she asked. "The doctor wants to talk to you in just a little while. Daddy will come with you, but I have to go, so I thought we could walk together."

"Where you oh-ing, Ah-mmy?" Jennie said, looking a little worried.

"I'm gonna go into surgery. There's a man who needs an operation."

"You oh-nna fix him," Jennie said knowingly.

"Yeah," Meredith agreed. "I'm gonna fix his brain so he gets better and then I can take you home tonight, how does that sound? And after you're done with your tests, April promised to bring that chocolate cake you like."

Jennie pondered that for a few seconds. "Oh-ey," she said.

"So are you coming?" Derek said. "The doctor is waiting for you."

Jennie looked from Laura, to her painting and then back to Derek and Meredith. She seemed unsure whether she should insist on finish her sea world, or if she should actually give in and come with her parents.

"You know what, Jennie," Laura said. "I'm gonna put your painting to dry here in my special cupboard. Then you can come back when you're done and paint some more if you like."

Jennie brightened. "Ah-mmy, I do it more?" she said.

"Sure," Meredith replied. "If you feel like it after, Daddy can take you for a little bit."

As they were slowly strolling the hallways in this part of the hospital where Derek rarely was during a workday, Jennie was happy to tell them about all the fun things she and Laura had done. Not only had they given all the dolls a shot, they had also operated their brains, one of them even twice. Jennie's report that Miss Laura didn't really know how to do it and her slightly worried suggestion that Meredith had to come show her had them both suppress their laughter.

When they had said goodbye to Meredith by the elevators, Derek led Jennie to the room Dr. Parker had pointed out for him earlier. It was a large room, with several windows that gave an impression of air and space. Derek was glad Dr. Parker had decided not to use Mary Robinson's office for this meeting. He knew how demanding the speech sessions were for Jennie, and even though she rarely said anything, he didn't want her previous experiences of trying hard and gaining very little to affect this test.

Dr. Parker stood up when he knocked lightly on the open door. She had been crouched over her desk, typing on her computer keyboard, but she smiled warmly when she saw them.

"Hi," she said. "Come on in."

In the middle of the room was a low table, which had been stacked with pencils and papers. There were a few chairs, but also a soft beanbag and a large, woollen carpet with a colorful, vivid pattern.

Dr. Parker crossed the floor and crouched down next to Jennie's wheelchair. "I'm Dr. Parker," she presented herself. "I know your dad has told you a little about what we are going to do today. Is that right?"

Jennie nodded shyly and stared at her, but said nothing, clutching Derek's left hand in a firm grip.

"That's good," Dr. Parker said. "Daddy has told me a little about you too." She smiled. "I know you have some trouble making words and sounds. I work with other children who also do. Sometimes I can help them get better. When we talk here today, I will listen to you, and I will ask you questions, and when I have done that, I will see if I can help you too."

Jennie listened intently, and seemed to relax a little at how Dr. Parker explained what was gonna happen.

"Since we are going to work together today, you can call me Miss Liz, if you want to." She tilted her head a little. "When we talk with each other, you can use whatever way you like. If you want to use signs, that's fine. If you want to point, or say words, that's good too. And if there is a word I'm not sure about, I'll ask your daddy to listen for me. Would that be ok?"

Jennie nodded and gave her a slight smile, but didn't let go of Derek's hand just yet.

"Good," Dr. Parker said happily. "Now, you can sit wherever you want. Pick a place, and then we'll get started in a little bit."

She stood up again and went back to her desk, making no rush. Jennie looked around the office hesitantly. She pulled a little at Derek's hand and he crouched down.

"Where do you want to sit, Bug? In your chair? In the beanbag?"

"Ean-bag," she whispered.

"Ok," Derek said and smiled encouragingly. "You wanna walk there by yourself?"

Jennie nodded, but didn't let go of his hand as he helped her down from her wheelchair. He walked her all the way across the floor and smiled at the way she giggled when she sank down in the yellow beanbag. When he made an attempt to disentangle himself, she pulled his hand a little harder.

"Not go, Ah-ddy."

"I'm not going," he assured her. "I'll be here in the room with you."

"You can decide where Daddy will sit," Dr. Parker interjected. "Do you want him next to you?"

Jennie nodded silently and looked pleadingly at Derek. He squeezed her hand a little and carefully sat down at the carpet next to her beanbag. It was soft and pretty comfortable to sit on, but he wasn't young and he knew he wouldn't go unpunished sitting at the floor with no support for his back this whole session. He hoped Jennie would allow him to move to another spot when she had become a little more confident.

He felt Jennie tense up a little when Dr. Parker positioned herself at the carpet on the other side of her. The therapist, however, only smiled. "How silly of me," she said. "I forgot to ask your name when you got here. I think we need to introduce ourselves properly, don't you?" She winked a little at Jennie, who watched her apprehensively. "You already know I'm Miss Liz. Can you tell me your name?"

"Eh-nnie," Jennie said quietly.

"Do you know your surname too?"

"Ehph-ehrd."

"I see," Dr. Parker said. "You probably think I look like I'm very old, but I'm 36. How old are you?"

"Four," Jennie said immediately, putting up four fingers before her. "I in eeh-oohl."

"Sorry?" Dr. Parker said. "Could you say that again?"

Jennie stared at her and looked down. She reached out her hand and pushed a little on Derek, as to tell him to translate for her.

"Try again, Jennie," he suggested. "You're in...?"

Jennie looked back at Dr. Parker and sighed. "Eeh-oohl," she whispered.

"You're in preschool?" Dr. Parker asked. "That's for big girls, isn't it? Do you like it?"

Jennie nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Ok," Dr. Parker said. "I met both your mom and dad this morning, so I know a little bit about your family. Do you have siblings as well?"

"Oh-sie," Jennie said, seeming to understand what kinds of answers the therapist was looking for.

"Josie," Dr. Parker repeated. "You live together all of you, don't you? You and Josie and Mommy and Daddy? Do you know what city you live in?"

Jennie looked at her. "Eh-att-ehl," she said a little hesitantly, as if she wasn't entirely sure that was what she was looking for. Derek must give her right; asking about what city they lived in when they were right in that city was indeed a little confusing.

"Ok, that's good, Jennie," Dr. Parker said encouragingly. "Now, I would like to hear what you have to say about this. I'm sure your mom and dad have told you not to play on the street. Why do you think you're not allowed to do that?"

"Eh-caush of ah-rs."

"Yeah, that's a good reason," Dr. Parker agreed. "There are cars and they can hurt you. What about this one, then? If your mom told you to go to the store and buy some cookies, what would you do if that store didn't have any cookies?"

Jennie glanced at Derek. He smiled at her. They had never sent Jennie anywhere by herself, especially not to places where she had to speak to strangers. She wouldn't be able to relate to this situation, so he wondered what she would choose to say.

"I go oh-me?" Jennie said uncertainly, looking between Dr. Parker and Derek.

"You would go home and tell your mom they had no cookies? Ok, that's a good solution."

Jennie looked relieved. She seemed to relax a little where she was sitting and looked around curiously in the room while Dr. Parker sorted through the heap of papers on the little table behind her.

"See here, Jennie," she said. "If I hold my hand like this..." Dr. Parker formed her hand like she was about to sign the letter 's'" ...could you do the same with your right hand?"

"Uh-huh," Jennie nodded and mimicked her gesture.

"That's right," Dr. Parker said and smiled.

She continued this way with a couple of different forms, all of which Jennie had no problems copying, and then went over to write with Jennie's fingers in the air, asking her what figure she just had drawn. Then followed a part where Jennie was asked to identify figures from one paper on another, match parts of pictures and point to the corresponding body part on herself that Dr. Parker showed her on a doll.

Her initial hesitation seemed to have worn off, and she willingly participated in the tasks. Dr. Parker seemed to use the right balance between playfulness and instructions to make them interesting enough to perform. He watched while she tried to build a tower out of some blocks the same way Dr. Parker instructed, and then analyze a picture with a lot of absurd details before writing her name and drawing some geometrical shapes. From what he could tell, she did everything textbook. He hoped that was how Dr. Parker saw it too.

She smiled happily at him when Dr. Parker complimented her on the human being she just had drawn on her paper, next to the accomplished tasks of completing a pattern and drawing a straight line. These parts of the motor testing seemed to pose no problem at all for her. Some movements that Dr. Parker asked her to do with her hands did, though, and jumping on one leg at a time had to be totally excluded. He made a mental note to stress to Dr. Parker later on that she must weigh in Jennie's spina bifida when analyzing that particular result.

"Do you want something to drink, Jennie?" Dr. Parker asked when one hour had gone by. Derek suspected she wasn't even halfway done and appreciated a little pause, both for his own and for Jennie's sake. When Jennie nodded, Dr. Parker stood and went over to the little fridge behind her desk. "Is lemonade fine? Or do you want water only?"

"Ehm-oh-nade," Jennie said eagerly and tried to get up from the beanbag. When she didn't manage, she motioned for Derek to help her up and wobbled a little unsteady over the floor. Derek watched her carefully and stood up to be ready to rush forward if she fell. It was good to stretch his stiffened limbs a little.

"Coffee, Dr. Shepherd?"

"Thank you," he replied. He usually didn't have time to sit down for a coffee on his working days, and had to do with the Styrofoam cups he could get hold of, gulping them down between surgeries or trying to make them last as long as possible during hours of paperwork. "How you're doing, Bug?" he said as he walked over to the little kitchenette. "Tired?"

"No, Ah-ddy," she exclaimed, sipping her lemonade. "I do good."

"You really are," he agreed. "Do you need to go to the bathroom?"

"No."

Derek looked at his wristwatch. She hadn't been since Meredith came this morning, and now would have been a good time to go again. He took a sip of his coffee while he calculated in his head. "Ok," he said finally. "You can get on with the test for a bit. But if it's too much time left here, we take a bathroom break in a while, ok?"

Jennie shrugged. "Oh-ey, Ah-ddy," she said noncommittally.

The next part Dr. Parker seemed intent on testing was Jennie's oral motor functions. She began to ask her to put her tongue out and hold it still for as long as she could. It proved to be a huge effort, and just as Derek thought she would refuse to do it, Jennie finally stuck her tongue out, so little that they could hardly see the tip over her lower lip.

"Great work," Dr. Parker said gently. "Can you reach up and lick your nose?"

Jennie seemed to really try, but it took her only a few seconds before the tongue fell backwards into her mouth again and she shook her head. Dr. Parker prodded gently a few times, trying to get her to move the tongue left and right, in and out, or up and down in various positions, but it was soon apparent that all Jennie's efforts were fruitless.

Derek had watched the scene with an increasing uneasiness. Sure, he'd told Dr. Parker himself just a few hours ago that his daughter's mouth functions were decreased, but truthfully, he'd never asked her to do all of these specific exercises, and it had never occurred to him the extent of her inability in this aspect.

"Ok," Dr. Parker said, noting something on her chart and quickly went on to something else, as if she sensed that more failures right now would significantly decrease Jennie's willingness to continue. "That was a really hard part, wasn't it? Let's do something else."

Jennie nodded. She looked relieved, but looked down all the same, as if she was ashamed of not managing to accomplish any of these latest tasks. Derek wanted to assure her that she had tried her best and that was what mattered, but before he could say anything, Dr. Parker had found the right paper in her heap.

"I'll start by saying some sounds here, Jennie," she told her. "I want you to say them after me. Don't worry if you think it's hard or if it won't come out right. That way I can hear what kinds of sounds you have most problems with. Ok?"

"Oh-ey," Jennie said quietly. Derek thought that some of her spark seemed gone, but she sat up a little straighter and seemed determined to do her best anyway.

Dr. Parker began a long series of sounds. She tested how well Jennie could repeat rhythms and stressed syllables, and how she responded to nonsense words. Derek got more and more discouraged for every sound that Jennie was unable to repeat correctly, but Dr. Parker seemed unfazed and gave no indication to Jennie that she wasn't doing well.

The greater and more complex the sentences Dr. Parker gave her though, the more words she missed out on. Derek noticed that just like it did when she got tired in the evening, her speech became more slurry the longer phrases she had to repeat.

"What do you say, Jennie," Dr. Parker said at last. "Should we do something a little more fun?"

Jennie, who had started to look a little tired, nodded eagerly. Derek knew she would never admit something she considered a weakness, but he thought he could trust her to speak up if she didn't want to continue. He considered suggesting a bathroom break, but decided to wait a little longer. He would feel better if Jennie got to leave the situation after having been successful.

During the following minutes, Dr. Parker asked Jennie to retell a story, and after that, describe an image with a lot of details. Derek knew the therapist took note of all errors and distortions Jennie made while speaking, but felt relieved that the understanding and grasping the essentials of something told didn't seem to pose her a lot of problems.

During the bathroom break he insisted on after that, he watched Jennie carefully, trying to get the sense of how she felt about the testing.

"You were doing so great in there," he promised her. "Did you find it hard?"

"A litt-ehl," Jennie said. "Not all."

"Some things she asked you to do were really hard," Derek said. "Does it feel ok anyway?"

"Ah-ddy, she eh-lp me." Jennie looked seriously at him.

Derek swallowed through the lump in his throat. "Yes, Jennie. She's trying to help you. It's a very good thing."

"Ok, Jennie," Dr. Parker said when they reentered the room. "Now I just have one last task for you. You think you'll manage?"

"Uh-huh," Jennie nodded, even though Derek had noticed how she repeatedly had rubbed her eyes.

"You're tired, Bug?" he asked.

"I do it, Ah-ddy," she insisted.

Derek nodded, not wanting to push it further. "Just tell me if you wanna stop, ok?"

"I think this will be almost too easy for you," Dr. Parker said and smiled. "I'm gonna say a word and you will point to the picture that you think show that word. Ok?"

As she'd anticipated, Jennie got through the ten pairs of sound alike words with no problem at all. The next step, where Dr. Parker did the opposite and let her come up with a word for each picture she showed her, didn't pose much problems either. Even those words where Jennie had to search around to find the right sounds, there was no doubt she immediately knew which word was in question.

"Well," Dr. Parker said at last. "Thanks a lot, Jennie. You have been very good this whole session. Now you really have earned going back to your room and rest. Maybe Daddy will buy you an ice cream, too." She winked at Derek.

"I ah-ving take," Jennie informed her.

"Cake? That seems like a really good treat," Dr. Parker smiled.

"You eh-lp me now?" Jennie asked.

"What did you think of?"

"You eh-lp me wi-d my words?"

Dr. Parker seemed a little stunned. Derek held his breath. He was not sure what her answer would be, but needed her desperately not to let Jennie down in this.

"I see," Dr. Parker said slowly. "You saw that I took notes during all those questions? I'm going to look through them, and then I'm gonna talk to your parents and tell them what I think would be the best way to help you with your words."

"I not ah-ve eh-lp now?"

"Hey, Bug," Derek interjected. "I don't think any of us are up for that now. I'm feeling kind of tired. I bet Dr. Parker does too. She's been working the whole day."

"Jennie, what about this?" Dr. Parker asked. "As soon as I think I have an answer, I'll talk to both you and your parents. I promise to explain what we are gonna do to help you and why. Would that be ok?"

Jennie seemed to consider this. Then she sighed. "Oh-ey," she said quietly. "Ah-ddy, we go?"

"Yeah, Bug, we'll go now." Derek stood and when he lifted Jennie to put her in the wheelchair, she put her arms around his neck and buried her face in the crook of his neck.

"Ih-ft me, Ah-ddy?" she mumbled.

Derek took a better grip of her and hoisted her up a little on his hip. "I'll carry you," he promised. "Let's get going. We have a chocolate cake waiting for us."

_A/N – So that was the test. Remains to see what the evaluation will tell Meredith and Derek. For those who missed Josie, there will be more of her in my next chapter, which will also hold a little more drama. _


	8. Oughta swim in a heart that is sinking

_A/N – I'm terribly sorry it's been a lifetime since my last post. And if you have followed this story, you might already now notice that this is a repost of chapter 8. I had a reader who wasn't comfortable with some of the wording I used, and rather than entangle myself further into those terms, I made some minor changes to the last section in this repost. I am, however, done with the rest of the story, which will be two more chapters with one of them divided into two posts, and they will follow soon! So if you have forgotten what happened last, this is a nice reminder :) _

_If you're a new reader - welcome, and I suggest you go back to chapter 1 :)  
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"Josie, can you get the lunch boxes?" Meredith called from where she was standing in the hallway. "I put them on the kitchen counter."

She quickly put on her own shoes before kneeling down and helping Jennie with hers. Even though Derek hadn't left until just half an hour ago, the morning had been busy and she was a little stressed out to get the children to school on time.

"All done," she told Jennie as soon as she'd helped her with her jacket. "Do you want an extra sweater with you?"

Jennie shook her head. "Ah-mmy, I haf my pee-bee?" she asked anxiously.

"I did," Meredith assured her. "With extra peanut butter."

"I eat it on my veeh-ld ihp."

Meredith smiled and ran a hand through Jennie's hair. For this special occasion, Jennie had wanted her to put them in pigtails. She had insisted on wearing her pink and white striped t-shirt but Meredith had insisted that she'd wear long trousers instead of the shorts she'd wanted. Had it been a usual school day, she would have let her, knowing that she could always change whenever she felt cold or uncomfortable with it. Knowing that she would either sit in her chair all day or walking around outside with teacher who would be very busy keeping track of fifteen children as it was, she thought it best to take the safe option.

She had been cautious already when she heard that the field trip would include a bus trip and thus limited opportunities for Jennie to visit the bathroom when she needed to. She had never taken Jennie on a bus either. But she and Derek had decided early on that Jennie would have the same opportunities as everyone else. Her disability wouldn't limit her more than it did. So she had talked to the teachers. Made them promise to have one teacher look out for Jennie. Called in Sophie for the day.

"Josie," Meredith called and stood up. They were really running late now. "Wait here for your sister while I put your chair in the car," she instructed Jennie.

When she returned from the driveway, having left the back door open to let the air blow through the car and hopefully let the heat dissipate, Josie was standing on one leg, trying to squirm her other one into her shoe, clutching the two lunch boxes in her arms.

"Good, you're here," Meredith said. "Let's hurry."

A couple of minutes later she'd locked the door and made sure the girls had all they needed for school while they were standing patiently on the driveway, waiting for her. Seattle must have hit a dryspell since the day before, because the rain that had been pouring down only a few days ago was nowhere to be seen and unlike any day the previous week, she felt hot already before she'd left for work in the morning. The metallic blue of their car was reflecting in the relentless rays of sun and when Meredith came closer, she saw that Josie had removed her jacket. Her shoulders were slumped, though, and she looked down on the ground.

"Mom, I don't feel good," she whispered.

"You don't?" Meredith said, sighing inwardly but sat down before Josie and looked attentively at her, forcing herself to push aside the tight schedule they were on. "Where does it hurt?"

"My stomach," Josie mumbled. "It feels funny. Like I will throw up."

"Maybe you're just a little nervous?" Meredith suggested lightly. "To get to school? I bet you'll get better as soon as you get there, don't you think?"

Josie bit her lip and shook her head, still not looking at her.

"Come here," Meredith said gently, pressing her palm against Josie's forehead and made sure she wasn't warm from a fever. "Where is the pain? Over here?" She pressed her fingers lightly over Josie's right side, the classic point to check when she suspected appendicitis in her patients. To her relief, Josie didn't wince.

"No, it's just everywhere," Josie whined, gesturing vaguely.

"Ok," Meredith soothed. "I think it's gonna go away, sweetie. And if it doesn't, you can tell your teacher. She'll call us. Daddy and I need to go to a meeting this morning. But after that, we don't have to work, so we'll be home early. How about I pick you up before your after school class?" She took Josie's hand and squeezed it a little.

Josie merely shrugged at her suggestion, but didn't argue while she climbed into the backseat. Meredith watched her with a sinking feeling in her stomach. They had to go to the bottom with why Josie suddenly was so unwilling to go to school. She used to hate new situations. They were used to her nervousness right before a school year started, but they'd always thought that even if she didn't particularly loved school, like Jennie did, she had no problems once she'd settled in. This was new, and Meredith wasn't sure what to think. Was it merely a phase, something that depended on her age and that she would get over? Or was there something in school that made her not wanna go? She felt guilty for not going deeper into the issue right now, but she also knew it wasn't a good time for neither of them. She promised herself to talk to Derek about it. She would call Josie's teacher too. Just when this meeting was over.

"Ah-mmy," Jennie said from the backseat as Meredith turned left in the intersection just a block from the school. "Ah-mmy, we ih-nk."

Meredith cast a glance in her rear-view mirror. Jennie was holding her own t-shirt in a steady grip and stretching it a little to get it closer to Josie, who was wearing a white top with a big picture of Minnie Mouse, as usual clad in her enormous pink bow.

"You're right, Jennie," she agreed. "Those are the same colors. You're both very pretty."

She steered into the school's parking lot and maneuvered the car to a spot pretty close to the entrance. Josie unhook her belt and got out of the car with slow movements while Meredith helped Jennie out and unfolded her wheelchair. They walked together through the hallways, Meredith carrying Jennie's extra bag with a change of clothes. She'd put the lunch box in her regular backpack, that was hanging on the back of the chair. As they walked, a couple of children in her year waved and said hello to Jennie, but she noticed that some of the older kids, who didn't know her more than by sight, stared her wheelchair as they passed by.

When they got to the floor where the preschoolers' classrooms were located, Meredith turned to Josie, who'd been walking quietly beside her all the way. She squatted down before her and put her hands on her shoulders.

"You ok?" she asked. "Your stomach's not too bad?" When Josie just shrugged, she asked, "Do you want me to talk to your teacher? Tell her to keep an eye on you?"

"No," Josie replied. She sighed and took a grip on her backpack's straps with both her hands.

"Ok," Meredith said, studying her carefully. "If you're feeling sick, tell her to call us, ok?" She smiled, hoping to cheer Josie up a little. "I hope you'll have a good day. I'll see you later."

She watched Josie walk down the hall and disappear into the door at the end, where she could see several little girls outside, hanging their jackets on their places and chatting happily with each other. She suppressed a sigh, not feeling good at all leaving Josie feeling this way. What if she was sick for real? She hoped she wouldn't get a call during the day; not for her own sake but for Josie's.

When she had walked Jennie over the large study hall to the preschoolers' rooms and had a few last words with the teacher responsible for the field trip, she hurried out to the car and turned right for the hospital.

It had been a week since they'd taken Jennie home from her stay at the pediatric ward and since the test that she'd pressed Derek to tell her in detail about. She hadn't been sure of how long they would have to wait for an answer, but Dr. Parker had called them a few days ago. Since she was only visiting and was scheduled to return to Chicago at the end of this week, she'd pushed Jennie's evaluation so that she would have possibility to tell them her result by herself, rather than handing over to Mary Robinson. If they decided that what Jennie needed was more speech therapy, Miss Robinson would be the responsible therapist, but Meredith felt good about the fact that Dr. Parker didn't just want to leave this case unfinished.

She'd already had this day off and as soon as Derek had heard about the meeting, he'd pushed all his appointments that day to be able to come too. Meredith didn't suspect Dr. Parker's news to be particularly reassuring. She didn't know what to expect, and had ever since the test hovered between relief to finally get an answer, hope that it would be something easy to fix and dread that it wouldn't.

In just the few days since they'd first started to really explore the extent of Jennie's speech delay, she'd done her best to ignore the fears, questions and what-ifs that came with the possibility of yet another diagnosis. Surgery? Therapy? Disability? Both she and Derek knew all too well of the things that would come. The recommendations. The decisions to make. The upside, the downside and every side in between.

They'd tried to hide their anxiety for Jennie and instead focused on taking care of her those days she'd spent at home after her surgery. But today, the time had come to get the answer to a few questions and most likely leave with many more. It was the time to prepare to face another diagnosis and again try to make the decisions that would be best for Jennie.

When she met Derek in the waiting area outside the same office where Jennie had taken her test, she could see that the same thoughts were swirling in his head. He had his hands folded in his lap, and even though he smiled when he saw her, she could tell he was tense.

"I'm sorry I'm late," she said. "You're not in yet though."

"I bet we'll be any minute now," he replied. "Did everything go ok?"

Meredith sighed. "It's Josie," she said quietly. "She didn't want to go today either. Complained of stomach aches."

Derek frowned. "You're sure she wasn't sick?"

"No fever, no apparent tenderness. I told her to let the teacher call us if she needed to. But Derek, I'm worried about her. She's not been herself lately."

"I know."

"Yeah. I'm thinking we have to call the school. Maybe something's going on that they took notice of."

"You don't think we should talk to Josie first?" Derek reached his hand up to rub the little spot on the top of his nose, just below his forehead. Meredith didn't want to talk about this anymore than he did, but she noted that it seemed to take the edge of his concerns for the immediate issue they were about to face.

"I do. But she doesn't tell us anything. You know we have tried. She doesn't use to be this anxious; I seriously think there's something wrong." She sighed and shook her head a little, smoothing out an invisible crinkle on her khaki pants. "I promised to pick her up early today."

"Mmh," Derek said, looking up to the sound of soft steps on the floor.

"Dr. Shepherd, Dr. Grey. Welcome in." Dr. Parker smiled and stretched out her hand to both of them before they followed her into the office that she seemed to share with Jennie's regular speech therapist during her stay here.

Mary Robinson was already sitting at her desk inside her office and greeted both Meredith and Derek with a gentle smile.

"I'm glad you could come," Dr. Parker said. "As you know this is my last day in Seattle, and I wanted to talk to you before I leave."

"We appreciate it very much," Derek said. "Anything you can tell us that could help Jennie, we'd like to hear it."

"Please sit down," Mary Robinson told them, pointing to the two extra chairs that were placed on one side of the table in the middle of the room and took her own seat at the opposite side, next to where Dr. Parker already had sat down.

"How's Jennie?" Dr. Parker asked as soon as everybody had taken their seats.

Meredith nodded and smiled a little. "She's fine. We kept her at home for a few days but now she's back in school again. She's happy to be back to normal."

"I'm a little curious," Dr. Parker said, "did she mention our session at any time? Talked about it, asked about it?"

"She told me about it later that night," Meredith replied. "And she kept referring to you as 'the lady who's gonna help me talk'. She'd been telling her teachers too."

She'd been telling Josie as well, showing her what kinds of practices she'd been made to do and Meredith had heard her reenacting some versions of them with her dolls too. They hadn't got very many questions though. Jennie seemed to rely on the fact that she would get the help the doctor had promised and didn't push for when that would be.

Dr. Parker nodded at this and cast a glance at Jennie's chart that sat on the table between her and Mary Robinson. "When we looked at Jennie's test results and my assessment of how her speech worked, we did a differential, first to rule out that this isn't just a speech delay ranging within normal and then, to see which of the known speech disorders best fit her symptoms."

Even though Meredith had known already, maybe not in medical terms but in a mother's, that her daughter's speech delay wasn't normal, she still felt a pang in her chest hearing it. She glanced at Derek and saw that his jaw had tightened but neither of them said anything.

"Part of what I was testing was Jennie's pragmatic skills," Dr. Parker told them. "I wanted to see Jennie's knowledge of the world and the way she reasoned while facing both theoretical and practical problems. Just as you told me during our interview, I found that she did as well as any four year old. Some of her dexterity development doesn't match her age, but I'm fairly sure her spina bifida diagnosis could explain the majority of that."

"It does," Derek nodded. "She has some trouble with her fine motor skills, but she's getting better all the time. Her therapist is very happy with her improvements."

"I also paid attention to the way Jennie expressed herself and the way she used vocabulary and grammar." Dr. Parker made a pause. "Her speech at the testing only confirmed what I heard on those few occasions I talked to Jennie before last week. I know you mentioned this too; she doesn't speak full sentences and she has some troubles finding the right words."

Meredith closed her eyes briefly. She knew that so far, Dr. Parker hadn't said anything they didn't already know, but she found it so much harder than she had thought hearing it straight out. That growing feeling in her pit that Jennie's speech wasn't a normal four year old's speech had felt much more manageable when it only had its place there.

"However," Dr. Parker went on, "we went over the physical exams that have been made of Jennie's oral structures and respiratory system. We came to the same conclusion that has been made before; nothing in her anatomy speaks against that she would be able to talk. Although she does move her tongue and lips less than normal, it doesn't seem to be an anatomy problem – she should be able to move them just fine."

So why doesn't she? Meredith was surprised over how bitter the obvious questions sounded inside her head. She wanted to throw it in the speech pathologist's face, like she was the one to blame and not the one with the answers. But before any of it could make its way through her mouth, Dr. Parker kept talking.

"Her voice quality is not quite what it should be though. She doesn't vary her voice very much by choice, but I noticed that her speech melody is a little bit disrupted the way it goes up and down without any particular reason. Yet her respiratory system should be working like a clock. So we can see that while she has all the individual speech muscles intact, they don't work together as they should."

"And is that... consistent with what diagnosis?" Derek asked. His voice was hoarse, telling Meredith he wasn't unaffected by this conversation either.

"One moment," Dr. Parker said. "We noted that Jennie didn't seem to have any problems at all knowing which words she was after. She scored one hundred percent on the tests where she was supposed to choose a meaning to a word by pointing at a picture. She doesn't seem to have a problem discriminating sounds by listening."

"That... that's a good thing, right?" Meredith asked quickly. It's not that serious, then? She felt a glimmer of hope. After all, that was what she and Derek had both said from the beginning. Jennie understood everything they said. She wasn't slow. She knew, and that was caused her frustration the most; knowing the words and not being able to say them.

"It is," Dr. Parker assured her. "It's a very good thing. Jennie's understanding of language is preserved. It means her problems don't lay in the cognitive area."

"Then what are they?" Derek demanded. "What is your diagnosis?"

"I'll come to that," Dr. Parker nodded, sensing their anxiety. "This finding was important and could, together with two other characteristics, determine our conclusion. We saw that Jennie had significant problems when she was asked to repeat sequences of words. She could say the same sounds differently right after one another. The more words, the less accuracy. I know you mentioned this too."

"She's inconsistent, yes," Derek said.

"Add to that her way of feeling around for the right sounds, trying and starting over and the very common mistakes she does when she replaces one sound with another." She made a little pause, making eye contact with both Meredith and Derek before she went on.

"We believe that Jennie has what is called oral dyxpraxia of speech." She was quiet for a minute to let the words sink in. "Dyspraxia means..."

"... difficulty with learning automatic movements," Derek filled in slowly.

"Yes," Dr. Parker nodded. "Within speech pathology, this causes problem to remember patterns in making sounds, controlling the organs and coordinate the movements. Oral dyspraxia includes more than just sounds and affects the whole mouth area."

"This diagnosis fits very well with the symptoms Jennie is showing," Mary Robinson interjected. "It is a very rare disorder, and hard to diagnose. You were lucky to have Dr. Parker."

Meredith thought that lucky wasn't maybe the right word to choose. Having just received the news that her daughter had a rare speech disorder that from what she could tell seemed hard to really treat, she felt all but lucky.

"I have a feeling lucky isn't what you're feeling," Dr. Parker said gently as if she had read Meredith's mind. "But Mary is right, Jennie clearly fits this diagnosis. The characteristics are just the ones you are experiencing; difficulty in making speech sounds, sequencing them, keeping them clear – especially in long sentences – and controlling speed, rhythm, volume and intonation."

Dyspraxia... Meredith racked her brain for this disorder, that in just these couple of minutes had become a feared name. Had she ever met a patient with it? An exam question on a final? A discussion on it on a seminar? Had it even been mentioned in one of her old medical books, the ones she poured over for four years in order to be where was today?

"Is it neurological?" Derek asked and she knew that he too must be going through old cases in his head, trying to find the slightest similarities to their daughter.

"It is a motor speech impairment," Dr. Parker said. "It's possible you have stumbled upon a patient with it, but they haven't come to you to treat it. It's not surgical."

Not surgical. Meredith closed her eyes briefly. Even if she knew all too well that being a surgeon didn't at all provide assurance when a family member had to go into the operating room – rather the contrary – she felt a small hope shatter. It wasn't that she _wanted_ surgery for Jennie. But she had been working in the pediatric ward too long not to be wanting that feeling of being fixed that families leaving her care sometimes got. She knew that those were the easy cases. The broken appendixes. The splinted wrists. The removed polyps or the concussions. Even children with serious conditions like heart defects or liver damage could be 'fixed' with a new organ. But you couldn't replace muscles and nerves and signals that weren't there.

"So... how do you... there's a treatment, right?" she said. She was vaguely aware that she had tears in her eyes, but didn't even try to blink them away. "There's something to do?"

"Fortunately, there is." Mary Robinson's smile was sympathetic when she discreetly pushed the box with tissues over the table. "There's evidence that regular and intense speech therapy can help these children well in a long-term perspective."

"Speech therapy?" Derek echoed. "But Jennie's been in therapy for over a year now."

"I know," Dr. Parker said. "And I know you don't think she's made any particular progress. Dyspraxia requires a different kind of approach than what has been tried so far. For Jennie to learn how to form words and sounds automatically, to the extent that she's doing it when she speaks without having to think, we need to intensify our work."

Meredith thought of Jennie, already beridden with appointments and training and all kinds of scheduled activities that had nothing to do with a carefree childhood, enriching leisure time or experiences that would help her grow as a person. Could they really put more to that than they already had?

"What do you mean by intensifying?" she said warily.

"Daily," Dr. Parker replied. "Every day. What she learns in therapy must be practiced at home. Repetition is the keyword here. Jennie needs to drill every little movement until they are second nature to her."

"Typically, this work is done in steps," Mary Robinson interjected. "We start by improving the movements of the mouth before we progress to making single sounds and then to repeat and swap between other sounds. Then we go from word level to sentence level."

"You must understand," Dr. Parker said and looked seriously at Meredith and Derek, "that this isn't at all done overnight. It might seem simple putting it in steps like this, but in reality, this is a work that might not seem progressing much more than what you experience right now."

"But in the end...?" Meredith asked.

"You're looking at years, before you will see a clear difference. It will be difficult. It will depend on how much training you can give her at home. But eventually, there will be progress. Most kids with dyspraxia look at an intelligible speech when they are older."

"Years?" Derek asked in disbelief. "But we're not equipped for helping her like that."

Dr. Parker smiled. "I believe you're more equipped than most parents. We will have to work in close contact with each other. You will get support from us on how to work with Jennie. There are some things we use to remind parents of, but from what I have seen and heard from Mary, these are things you intuitively already have mastered."

"What things?" Meredith quietly wiped her eyes with one of the tissues on the table, not caring that she sad red-eyed and clueless before a colleague. Even if Dr. Parker seemed to think their medical degrees made them suitable to help their daughter, it didn't matter. In here, she was a mother like anyone, shaken by news she didn't wish for anybody.

"It's important to remember that Jennie isn't lazy," Dr. Parker said and waved with her hands when both Meredith and Derek looked up at her, ready to defend themselves. "I know you don't think that. Few parents do. But it's important to communicate that to other adults that come in contact with Jennie. Even though she may seem capable of a sound or a word in one context, she might not master it in another."

Meredith thought of the scenes that sometimes played out when she came to pick up Jennie at preschool. A teacher could happily tell her that Jennie had spoken so clearly that day, and encourage her to show Mommy how good she'd been. And then Jennie would try; and the teacher would look more and more troubled, and eventually apologize to Meredith, assuring that she could have sworn on how intelligible that word had sounded earlier in the day. Meredith would take Jennie by the hand, gather her things and tell the teacher that she was sure Jennie would be able to say the word again. But her heart would sink a little for each time this happened.

"Ok," Derek said slowly and nodded in agreement, reaching for her hand under the table and squeezing it. "We can do that."

"The other things," Dr. Parker went on, "concern whether or not you should correct Jennie's speech. There will be some occasions where this is appropriate. Wise is, however, to passively correct it by repeating it." She paused and looked at them both. "But only you, as Jennie's primary speech tutors aside from us, are allowed to help her with this. Other adults should merely try to understand her message."

Only them. Jennie's primary speech tutors. The heavy responsibility seemed to weigh down on Meredith's shoulders and she had to swallow the clot of panic that started to form in her throat.

"Do you have any questions?" she heard Dr. Parker say, and she was vaguely aware that Derek fired a few, and even took some notes. Instead of snapping out of the strange dreamlike trance she'd somehow gotten herself into, she let his words float by and concentrated on not letting her breaths get to shallow.

"Meredith?"

She turned slowly to Derek and saw that both he and Dr. Parker had stood up. It was time to go. They were finally done.

"Dr. Grey, are you feeling ok?" Mary Robinson asked gently. "Do you need some time to...?"

"I... I'm fine," Meredith broke her off. "I don't... I'm fine."

But her knees shivered slightly and she had to lean on Derek when she stood up to shake Dr. Parker's hand. She saw Derek give her a concerned look as she tried to fight the moment of lightheadedness that standing up had come with.

"Thank you," he said turned to the both women in front of them.

"Yes, thank you," Meredith mustered to echo. When she sat her right foot in front of her left in order to turn around and get far away from the office where she'd been given a sentence for her daughter no parent would want, she swayed on her feet, stumbling a little forward.

Derek put his arm forward to prevent her from falling. She could feel his worried gaze even if she didn't look at him, but he didn't say anything and she was grateful. But then the burnt in her throat made itself reminded again.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and turning on her heel, she walked right out of the door and half-sprinted down the corridors. She didn't care who saw her; she knew she wouldn't have been able to hold back the sobs any longer.

Derek found her after only a few minutes; she guessed he'd caught a glimpse of her as she fled. He stepped out of the back doors and made her way over to her where she was sitting on the bench draped around the young tree in the little yard. She didn't come here very often, but after a few times when all her usual places had been too crowded, she had taken a liking to this place, where not many people passed.

She didn't try to hide her tears from him. She'd half-heartedly lifted her hand to her face a couple of times to stroke them away, but never bothered in the end. Without looking up, she saw him in the corner of her eye, and when he stopped before her, he reached down to touch her shoulder gently.

"Meredith," he said.

And by the time he sat down next to her, her body shook with sobs. He didn't say anything more. He merely put his arms around her and she leaned into him, gripping at his arms and clung on to him. He scooted closer on the bench and let his hands slowly soothe her back and arms. She put her face in the nape of his neck and whimpered quietly. He kissed the top of her head and just held her.

"I just..." she whispered when the tears seemed to have stopped flowing. "I just couldn't hear anymore."

"I know," Derek murmured.

"It's not fair."

"I know."

His hands traveled up and down her back, and even if his face expressed concern, she knew he wasn't worried about her. He knew where it came from. He knew they would be okay.

"I'm so tired, Derek," she said quietly. "It's... I'm just so tired."

"I know," he said again. "Me too."

Derek let the wash fluid splash against the windshield and let the wipers go on full force until he could see his surroundings so clear he could almost doubt there was a windshield at all. He took a sip from the Styrofoam cup he'd placed in the cup holder and made a face when he noticed how cold the coffee had become in just the short drive from the hospital to the school. Neither he nor Meredith had wanted to stay at the hospital and they had grabbed a sandwich each at a little diner a few blocks away. He had no memory of what it had tasted like, though, and he doubted Meredith had either. They'd eaten in silence, not necessarily an uncomfortable one, but each so deep in their thought that they'd had a silent agreement not to talk about what they'd just spent their morning discussing.

He looked out of the window. The heat seemed to dissipate into the asphalt and even though it wasn't long since it had rained, the grass on the school grounds looked almost dying. The night would be pleasant though, once the sun started to set. He'd promised himself that whatever would come from this meeting, he and Meredith were both off and would spend the night together with their daughters. Usually, one of them was in surgery at least some part of the evenings.

He gazed out of the window for a while, staring before him. When he saw the bus turn in on the street, he sighed and got out of the car. He'd promised to pick Josie up before her after school care, and the school bus was a sure sign that the regular lessons had ended for today. When he walked through the familiar building, he glanced towards the preschool area only to have the empty and quiet halls reminding him of that day's field trip. He hoped Jennie was having a good time, but he suddenly and maybe not very reasonable, doubted it. Now that he'd got a name on what previously had been an unknown vague fear, he suddenly felt more wary about the fact that she was spending time with people who were prone to not understand her. Logically, he knew nothing had changed for Jennie in the few hours since they'd been told the reason she still didn't talk very well. Still, it didn't stop him from reading a lot into all the kinds of situations she must be facing today.

The door to Josie's classroom was open, and Derek saw at least ten kids crowd outside, trying to get to their jackets, buzzing greetings and jokes to each other. He smiled when he saw Josie come through the door, too. Her dark curls fell down her shoulders and the legs of her jeans had slipped up a little. When she started to walk down the hall in a pretty fast pace without any of her belongings, he first thought she was going to the bathroom. When she started running, however, and instead of turning right sprinted across the large hall towards the staircase that led up to the fourthgraders' classroom, he knew something wasn't right.

He found her under the staircase, curled up in that little space just between the floor and the steps, large enough for a little girl to hide without being seen by anyone not looking particulary close. He didn't say anything, just crouched down so that he got in her eye-level. When Josie looked up at him, she tried to quickly wipe her tears so he wouldn't see.

"Josie," Derek said, the concern in his voice evident. "What happened?"

His daughter didn't say anything. She buried her head between her knees and refused to look at him. Derek didn't know what to do, but sat down properly on the carpet to find a more comfortable position.

"Josie," he tried again. "Did something happen?"

Josie didn't answer, but even if she lifted her head to look at him, her shoulders hunched and her whole posture witnessed of defeat. Derek ached and wanted desperately to know what was wrong so that he could fix it for her.

"Are you hurt?" A slight shake of her head. "Do you feel sick?" A roll with her eyes. "Did something happen in school?" Silence. "Did someone say something to you?"

Josie bit her lip and blinked away some tears. She pressed her hands to her face to stop the tears from welling up again.

"I don't..." she began but broke off and took a gulping breath. "I don't want to... I can't... Can we just go home?"

She got to her hands and feet and scooted over enough so that she could crawl up in his lap. He could feel that her whole body tried to stop shivering. He instinctively pulled her into an embrace and slowly stroked her hair, like he used to do with Meredith if she was upset.

"It's ok, Jo," he said soothingly. "It's gonna be ok." He could feel her face pressed against his chest but the only sounds he could make out was a small whimper. He eased her back from his body to look at her. Her lips was trembling and her eyes were red and blotched. "Hey," he said quietly, easing her backwards to sit upright. "Hey, can you try again for me? What happened?"

His daughter just shook her head violently and buried her face in her hands. Derek's heart broke a little for each moan she let out behind the drape of her hair. He gently took her hands in one of his, and cupped his other one around her chin.

"Take a deep breath, okay?" He waited until she did as he said. "Ok, good." He was concerned over her obvious distress and was unsure of how much he should push her to tell him what ever could have happened to upset her like this.

"Daddy," Josie mumbled. She tried to take another deep breath, but it came out more like a shallow gasp and she swallowed. "Daddy, can we go home?"

Derek shook his head and looked severely at her, taking both her hands in his. "Josie, please, tell me," he insisted.

His daughter stared at him without speaking, her eyes bleary behind still unshed tears. She looked guilty and mortified at the same time and that made Derek despaired. He shouldn't find his girl in this state, not anywhere and particularly not in the school where they left her every day to be taken care of in the best of ways. He wanted nothing more than to just pick her up and hold her and save her from all evil in the world. But he had to find out what had happened.

"Josie," he said quietly.

"It's nothing... " she whispered, her face flushing as she tried to break free from his grip. "It's... I'm... " She swallowed again. "Daddy, it's ok."

Derek paid no attention to her words; only to her voice, which was thin and curiously thick at the same time, as if a well of tears lingered at the end of her throat. He wished Meredith could be here to help him talk to their daughter. He had a suspicion she would know what to say. He had no clue at all. He sighed and stroke his fingers in circles at her tiny hands. He remembered wistfully how he used to be able to make her stop crying back when she was much younger. She was a sensitive child, and was prone to cry in all sorts of situations if she didn't feel comfortable, and once, he'd simply held up his hand and look surprised.

"Oops," he would say, and only this made her look up and draw her breath a little. "I think you ran out of tears. You can't cry anymore."

He'd been taking a shot; that time she'd spent ten minutes crying without being able to articulate why, or to stop by herself. At first, he'd held his breath, anticipating her reaction, but when she actually giggled, and dragged her hand over her eyes and held it out for him as to show him her last waterworks, he'd been so happy. Since then, that had been their ritual. He'd say the magic words whenever he felt she couldn't really get a grip of herself, and for years, it had worked. Now, she was older. And the situation more serious.

Everything about her was begging him to drop it. Derek sighed in frustration. He knew his eyes were dark and probably did nothing to calm her down, but he couldn't help it. The mere thought of her being so upset made him feel sick inwardly. He couldn't stand the idea of just letting it go and just be more helpless than he already felt. On the other side, he felt apprehensive of pushing her harder for the moment, as she so clearly was opposed to talking to him about whatever it was.

"Great," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Josie, finally deciding on leaving the subject to let her calm down for a while. She was trembling where she was sitting before him and her eyes were unnaturally wide and glistened with the tears she'd not allowed herself to shed earlier.

"Josie," he said gently, pulling her into an embrace. She let go of the stiffness she's been holding on to since he'd found her and clutched on to him, her sobs increasing until she was almost howling hysterically. Derek felt hatred against whoever had done this to his little girl, but murmured soothingly as he stroked her hair.

When he spoke again, he was careful to offer her nothing but concern. "Hey," he said gently when she'd calmed down enough to hear him. "Do you want to go for an ice cream? Or to the farm and see the animals?" He tried to think of things that used to make her happy, but she dragged her hand over her eyes and looked at him, sniffing a little.

"I just wanna go home," she said quietly.

Derek frowned, but couldn't help feeling a little relieved at the same time. With Jennie's diagnosis looming over them and the million things they needed to plan and figure out to be able to deal with it, he certainly wasn't in the mood either. And however badly he wanted Josie to forget her troubles for a moment, maybe the best would be for her to get home to Meredith and let go of the pressure to be happy and enthusiastic when she really wasn't.

"Ok," he simply said. He eased her off his lap and stood up, reaching out his hand for her. She grabbed it and they walked slowly back to Josie's classroom. Six or seven kids had remained for aftercare and they were busy coloring or figuring out jigsaws at some of the desks inside the room.

Josie's teacher, Ms. Thompson, stood by one of the bookshelves, browsing through it as if she was looking for a special book. She wore a slight crease to her forehead and when she looked up to see Derek enter the room with Josie to pick up her things, it smoothed out immediately.

"There you are, Josie," she said, the relief in her voice unmistakenly. "I was just looking for your contact book to make sure I hadn't missed that you were going early today. Did you go to the bathroom and just forget to tell us?"

Josie stared at her for a second before quickly shaking her head and taking a step closer to Derek.

"Why don't you go get your stuff, ok?" Derek told her and squeezed her hand a little. "Then wait for me in the hall. I want to have a quick word with Ms. Thompson."

Josie nodded reluctantly and let go of Derek's hand. She went over to the row of lockers at the far wall of the classroom and opened the one that had a butterfly picture with 'Josie' labeled beneath it. As soon as she'd disappeared out in the halls, Derek turned to her teacher.

"Josie didn't feel well this morning," he said. "Has she seemed different today? Complained of any pain?"

"No, Dr. Shepherd," Miss Thompson replied. "She's been working as usual. She may have seemed a little quieter this last week, but nothing particular today."

"I was picking up her early today because she communicated this morning that she didn't want to go to school," Derek said quietly. "We've been getting other signals like that for some time now. She has nightmares and feels anxious. And when I got here I found her under the stairs, crying."

The teacher seemed stunned and even though he had to work to keep the anger out of his voice, he saw that her surprise was honest. She didn't know either.

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Dr. Shepherd," she said and frowned. "I must say I had no idea Josie felt that way. Has she told you anything about the reasons she doesn't want to come? I know she needed a lot of time to adjust in the beginning, but I was under the impression it had been better since then."

"She hasn't," Derek said, "and that what's worries me. I'd like a meeting with you in a few days time to really discuss this, when my wife will be able to attend as well."

"Of course," Miss Thompson nodded. "I know you have busy schedules, both of you, so tell me a time that suits you. Thank you for telling me. I'll be keeping an eye on Josie until we figure out what's bothering her."

Josie was waiting for him in the hall as he had told her. Her eyes were still a little red, but she seemed a little calmer now and even smiled a little when she saw him. He didn't like the way she clutched hard at his hand when he offered it, but he had promised to drop it for the moment. He had to put aside his concern and anger for a while until he and Meredith had a decent chance of discussing it on their own. He wondered if she had any clue about what this could be. He certainly hadn't and he felt somehow shaken that his little girl could go so long, feeling this miserable, without them knowing.

Most of all, he just felt tired. All of this above the doom about Jennie's difficulties felt almost unbearable. He felt like going home and sleep for the rest of the day would be the absolute best way right now and he hated the fact that he couldn't do just that.

His phone buzzed just as they got into the car. The caller id said 'Home' and he answered quickly, hoping no other news had floated to the surface just today.

"Hey, can you pick up something for lunch for us?" Meredith asked. She sounded tired, like him, but he couldn't trace anything else in her voice, no tears, no hopelessness. "Unless you want to cook. I don't think I can wrap my head around anything more complicated than takeout today."

"Yeah, me neither," he replied, relieved that this was her request and nothing more demanding. "I pick something up."

"Are you on your way?"

"Just leaving," he said. "Do you want anything special?"

"No, whatever you choose is just fine."

"I leave it to Josie then." He hesitated slightly. "Meredith?" He heard her breathe into the phone in an unspoken question. "Nothing. We'll see you when we get home."

If he remembered correctly, Jennie's bus would be back at four o'clock. Had this been a regular day, they both would have worked and Sophie would have taken her home. He was pretty sure though that they had promised to take her today since they were off work, but they would have time to talk, to themselves and hopefully to Josie as well. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. She was looking out the window, tracing patterns with her index finger at the glass and seemingly in her own little world.

He briefly went over his options and then turned onto the highway. He pressed on a few buttons to wind up the windows until only an inch remained. Even though it was warm enough outside to have them almost fully down, the noise from the speed he had to hold on the highway was way to loud. He turned on the AC instead and the fresh stream of air felt good on his arms and neck as he drove.

He turned left on the second exit and navigated into Roosevelt Medical Center on the university area. He knew the campus pretty well, having been invited as a guest lecturer each time that year's class came to neuro for the past five years. He drove past the large brick buildings with lecture rooms and the usual cafeteria and navigated into a spot just outside the large parking lot.

"Mexican's ok, Jo?" he asked after turning the engine off. "I told Mommy we'd take home lunch."

He had seen her look around the campus curiously while they drove through it. Now she nodded and unbuckled herself. He'd never taken her here before; he and Meredith had eaten here a couple of times but mostly he ate his lunch here together with the faculty head or the professor responsible for the class.

They ordered burritos and fajitas and after having small-talked a little with the owner, Antonio, who immediately recognized him, Derek took Josie outside. While they waited for the food to get ready, he pointed out the various houses and told her what it was like to go to college.

"Did you go to college, Daddy?"

Derek smiled. "Yeah, I did. But not here. I went to medical school in New York."

"Where Nana lives," Josie nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. I used to live there too before I moved here."

For a long time, he hadn't wanted to live anywhere else. Manhattan was in his blood. Genetically engineered to dislike anything except the pulse of the big city, the always open street stores and the sunny, hot summers. He hadn't planned on liking Seattle, and for a long time, he had despised the rainy evenings and the constant need for change of clothes every time you got stuck in a downfall. They had discussed moving when Meredith got her fellowship applications back – she'd been accepted both at Mass Gen and Mount Sinai – but by that time, he'd grown used to the damp climate and his job, and Josie had after much effort on their part finally adjusted to the hospital's daycare well enough for them to hesitate to uproot her.

He glanced at her. She was standing next to him, her eyes glued to a group of students in the middle of the lawn. They were doing nothing special; eating their lunch on a blanket and joking around with each other like he remembered himself with Mark and Addison, Naomi and Sam countless times. He hoped Josie would get to experience it too. Still shy with strangers, she seemed relaxed out here, not tense and worried like outside her classroom and he promised himself to do everything in his power to find out the reason why.

She was happy when they got home even though she was a little quieter than usual. They ate on the porch, all of them consciously avoiding any touching subjects. To Derek, his burrito tasted absolutely nothing, though he knew he used to like the way the hot salsa mixed with the mild guacamole. He could see that Meredith too ate more to decrease feelings of hunger than to enjoy a meal and after Meredith had asked Josie how school was and he'd given her a slight shake of his head, they both let Josie steer the conversation until they had finished.

As soon as Josie had left the table, Meredith raised her eyebrows at Derek.

"Did something happen?"

"We're gonna talk to the school," Derek told her. "I found her crying under the stairs when I went to pick her up. It took me forever to help her stop."

"Why?" Meredith suddenly looked very tired. "What upset her?"

"Still haven't told me," Derek replied. He shook his head and noticed that he had clenched his fists again. His nails was digging deep into his palm. "I don't know, Meredith. I've never seen her like that before. She was on the verge to hysterical."

Meredith dragged her hand through her hair several times. She was silent for over a minute and Derek let her take that time, attentively reading the emotions replace each other on her face. When she spoke, her voice was a little terse, like she knew that if she didn't restrain herself, her words were gonna come out a lot more louder than she'd liked.

"What did her teacher say?"

"She didn't seem to have a clue," Derek said. "I told her we'd want a meeting as soon as possible. We're gonna go to the bottom of this."

"Well," Meredith said after having studied the back of her hands for a little while. She met Derek's gaze, closed her eyes for a second as to gather strength and then nodded resolutely. "If she doesn't know, only Josie does."

She found her outside, curled up in the hammock with a book Meredith never remembered seeing at her nightstand. She watched her in silence for a couple of minutes and eventually Josie looked up, sensing her presence. Meredith had told Derek she would try to talk to her alone first. She wasn't sure what would come up, but she hoped it would take off some of the pressure if it were just one of them, taking it in Josie's pace.

"Hey," she said gently and sat down next to Josie on the hammock.

Josie cast her a quick glance but looked down again immediately in her book. She moved her legs a little to give Meredith more space, but still didn't look at her. Meredith ached for her transparent fear that she would ask something about what had happened in school.

"How's your day been?" she asked lightly, pretending not to care about the fact that Josie tried to ignore her. "Did you have any good subjects?"

"Science," Josie replied.

"Yeah, that's right," Meredith said. "Today was test day, wasn't it? Did you know your body parts?"

Josie nodded and smiled a little, but didn't pick up on the subject. All other days, she knew she'd been happy to tell her about the questions and how she'd answered them. Josie liked to do good in school. That she didn't say anything now could just mean she had other things on her mind. There was a silence and Meredith studied her daughter intently, seeing how she desperately tried to focus on her book, avoiding her eyes and pretending everything was just fine.

"Jo," she began softly. "Daddy told me what happened this afternoon." She paused to notice Josie's reaction and felt her stiffen. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Josie shook her head decisively and said nothing. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she pulled away when Meredith leaned forward to comfort her.

"Josie," Meredith said. "I promise we're gonna figure this out. Daddy and I are gonna help you, ok? Whatever it is. No one is going to be mad. I promise you that."

Josie started to cry silently where she sat. She dragged her knees up to her face so that she could hide her tears and clenched her fists at her side. Meredith kept away from touching her, knowing that would just make things worse.

"It's ok," she mumbled. "I know it's scary."

It killed her to see her daughter so vulnerable. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to imagine herself as a seven year old. Was there ever a time where Ellis had tried to comfort her like this? And if there was, had she let her? She knew that if she were to ask Derek, he would be the first to confirm that pulling away had been her specialty. She remembered his constant pushing and the discomfort she'd experienced when he always wanted to know everything and do everything. And then, in a breath, she also knew the relief those times she did tell him. Even if he couldn't do a squat about it, he'd taken what she'd held secret for so long and just been there for her.

Carefully, she nudged Josie and made a toss with her head. Standing up, she reached out her hand.

"Come," she simply said. She walked across their lawn until she reached the old oak that seemed to have been there forever. Josie and Jennie loved to play around that tree. She looked at Josie, who hesitantly had stood up, watching her cautiously. She lay down so that she got her head under the branches and her feet sticking out from under them. "Come," she repeated.

It took a minute or two, but then she felt her daughter get down on her knees and lie down beside her.

"What are we doing?" she asked.

"Sky," Meredith said and remembered another tree, in another time, where the lights had been artificial and there had been one person on each side of her. She said nothing more. She tried to relax and intermediate her mere presence to Josie. They had time.

And so they lay for almost ten minutes. Meredith had almost dozed off when Josie finally spoke.

"Why can't Jennie speak like me?" she whispered, like she wasn't sure it was allowed to ask.

Meredith's heart skipped a beat. She'd almost managed to block out the recent light that had been shed over Jennie's problems this morning, even though it lingered just under the surface and threatened to float up anytime she wasn't careful. Hearing the question startled her, though. She hadn't prepared to tell Jennie yet, even less Josie.

She cleared her throat to make sure it wouldn't wave. "Why do you ask that?" she said carefully.

Josie fell quiet again and Meredith was on the verge of saying something when she let out another question. "Is it 'cause she's in a wheelchair sometimes?"

Meredith sighed quietly. "No, that's not the reason," she said. She knew that she should gather herself and tell Josie what she needed to know in order not to worry about things she didn't need to, but she suddenly felt very tired.

"It's not just 'cause she's little, right?" Josie bit her lip. "I thought it was before. But it's not, right?"

"No, that's not why either," Meredith agreed.

Josie, who until now had been lying on her back and not once looked at Meredith while talking, now buried her head in Meredith's chest and murmured something. She put her arms around her daughter. "Say that again?"

"I need to tell the other kids why," Josie finally mumbled after a short additional silence. She blurted the words in one breath, as if she knew they were wrong.

"The other kids?" Meredith repeated incredulously. "What do you mean? What other kids?"

"They... they ask me all the time in school," she whispered. She looked down in her lap as she said this, but glanced up quickly as to gauge Meredith's reaction. "About Jennie."

"They do?" Hot flames of distress sparkled in Meredith's chest, but she tried her best to sound calm and could just hope her words didn't came out harsh. "Josie, who does that?"

Josie looked nervously at her. "I don't know. Everyone. They say she's not a normal person." She bit her lip and tried not to cry again. "Billy Pearson says she's a freak because she can barely talk."

Meredith had to physically restrain herself from simply getting up from the ground and go straight to the phone and call every parent in Josie's class. She clenched her fists so hard that she was sure she would see deep marks from her nails in her palms later, but she didn't feel a thing. They had worked hard to get Jennie accepted in her class, prepared the teachers, spoken to the parents and made sure to follow up her progress regularly. They had thought of never ending questions and words hard as poisonous arrows and how they would best help Jennie deal. They had just never thought of Josie in the equation.

"Your sister is absolutely not a freak," she said sternly. "In most ways, she's just like any other kid her age."

"But she can't to talk so well," Josie whispered with a wavering voice. Her tears spilled over as she told Meredith what had probably worried her for much longer than they had known. "Or walk. And they ask me why, and I never know what to say."

Meredith's heart sank, and she wondered how long Josie had been thinking about this. Just a year or two ago, which was the first time she'd ever really started to ask questions about her sister, she'd simply accepted their explanations and seemed happy with it. Meredith remembered once in a playground overhearing a little girl asking Josie about why Jennie didn't talk like them.

"She needs special needs," Josie had said matter-of-factly and Meredith had to stifle a laugh over this version of what she must have heard her and Derek talk about with other grown-ups.

It seemed that Jennie's differences weren't that easy for Josie to explain, neither to herself or to others lately, though. Meredith had hoped that after the talk they'd had when Jennie had still been in the hospital, Josie had realized that worrying about Jennie wasn't her job. But she could see now that half truths and part of stories wouldn't do it. Just like Derek had told Josie about Jennie during that ultrasound to calm her down, she had to give her the whole picture, no matter how inconvenient it might be just today.

"I know," she said. "I could tell you why if you want to. But it might be a little complicated."

"I want to."

"Ok." Meredith traced her fingers over Josie's back and pressed down on her spine. "You feel that? Everyone has a spine. It goes all the way from the brain down the back. Inside the skin, there are a lot of nerves that send messages from your brain to your body. If you want to kick your leg, your brain will use the nerves to tell the muscles in the leg to move." She paused and made sure Josie followed. "The skin protects all the nerves. When Jennie was born, her skin was open down here in the back. The nerves were outside her body."

"It didn't protect them," Josie said knowingly.

"That's right. The doctors put the nerves back inside Jennie's skin, but they were still a little damaged. So when Jennie's brain tries to send a message to the nerves to tell her leg to do something, it will have trouble getting through. That's why she can't walk as easily as you can."

"Because her nerves don't tell her legs what to do?"

"Yeah. It's an injury to the spine. A medical condition that Jennie was born with, and that no one is to blame for. Nothing about that makes Jennie a freak, Josie."

"Oh. Ok." Josie sounded relieved. "So the nerves don't work to her mouth either? That's why she has trouble talking?"

"Well, you could say that," Meredith nodded. "But it's a little different. There are a lot of muscles in your mouth that work when you say something. You control how fast you speak so that all sounds will come right after each other. You use your tongue and lips to do different sounds. All of this you do without thinking, right?"

"Mm," Josie said and Meredith could see how she stuck out her tongue and moved her lips around to get a grip of all those movements she did regularly but never thought of.

"Jennie is able to do all of these things one by one," Meredith said. "She can move her lips and her tongue. But she doesn't do it automatically. She has to think really hard each time she's gonna form a word. There's something wrong with the way all those things work together."

"That's not fair," Josie said quietly. "That she has so many things wrong with her. I don't want it to be anything wrong with her."

Meredith closed her eyes for a second. That simple sentence told her a lot. Josie must have a thousand reasons to wish for Jennie to be just like any other kid. She had to see Jennie struggle with basic tasks that she so easily managed. She had to accept that a lot of Derek and Meredith's time went to tending to Jennie's needs even at times she wanted them for herself. And on the top of that, she also had to endure children's comments in an environment where she really should be able to just be Josie. That was really not fair.

"Remember me and Daddy were in a meeting at the hospital this morning?" Meredith asked, swallowing past the lump in her throat and trying to sound optimistic. "We talked to a doctor that Jennie met with a couple of weeks ago. She told us that she's gonna need a lot of training to learn to talk like us. But she's gonna learn. She's gonna get better. And even if she doesn't, how well she talks has nothing to do with how we feel about her. We love her for who she is, no matter what things she can or can't do."

Josie didn't answer right away and Meredith wondered if she should put it another way to get her to understand. Her bottom lip trembled and then she burst into tears. Meredith felt her body shake with every breath she took. She stroke her back soothingly. She knew there were a lot more she could say, but she couldn't really get her head to think straight enough to put her words right. She waited for the next question to come, but Josie seemed to be fully busy with processing what she'd just said. And maybe that was all she needed today. She had a feeling she would be explaining this over and over again in the future anyway.

Josie's breaths came steadier now and her whimpering was down to almost nothing. She had curled up against her in a more relaxed position and rubbed her eyes a little.

"Hey," Meredith said gently. "You feel a little better?"

Josie shrugged and rubbed her eyes with her right fist until her cheeks were no longer wet with tears and only left with fading red blotches.

"You've not been feeling very good about school lately, have you?"

"No," Josie whispered. "'Cause they ask me all those things. And they laugh, too."

"That's not ok," Meredith said. "You know that, right? Why didn't you tell us before?"

Josie bit her lip. She looked younger than seven when she did that, closer to Jennie's age than her own, but then she sighed and suddenly seemed worn in a way Meredith had never seen a seven-year old do.

"'Cause it doesn't matter," she said resignedly, like she's already accepted that the situation would never change. "They're just gonna keep doing it."

"That's not true," Meredith told her. "You did right in telling me, because now we can come up with a solution together. Me and Daddy won't let it happen again, ok?"

Josie nodded hesitantly and sniffled a little. She put her head on Meredith's chest again, but this time she merely closed her eyes, exhausted from all the emotions they'd been through. Meredith let her hand absentmindedly stroke over her hair and tried to sort her thoughts. She had already made Derek look through their schedules to find a time for meeting with Miss Thompson. She felt Josie grab her hand and was suddenly overwhelmed of all the trust she put in her. She never wanted her not to have that faith in her. She had no choice but living up to it.

_A/N – There you go. Everything is up on the table and now it's just a matter of where they chose to go with it. You'll find out in the next chapter, which is the next to last, so I'm gonna start wrapping things up. I doubt that you'd notice if I didn't point it out, but this is the only chapter where I switch between Derek and Meredith as narrators. That's mostly due to not planning on those narratives beforehand, and then pasting stuff between chapters. Well, I hope you had a happy reading anyway!_


	9. Fairly simple to cut through the mess

_A/N - So finally, chapter nine, complete with the whole family featured :) Personally, I like the latter part of it the most, but the first half ties up a bit from the last chapter. Well, this whole chapter is a little round-off of the story actually. Next chapter will jump a few years in time and see what has happened then. Happy reading!_

Meredith took the few last steps up to Josie's classroom floor and looked around. Josie hadn't been sitting outside like she used to when she came to pick her up and now it was past four. Although she wasn't technically late yet, she impatiently tapped her foot while she scanned the room.

It was Friday, and the end of a very long week for her. She'd been home with a chest cold for two days and then forced herself back to work even though her deep cough still hadn't subsided. The remaining days had been stuffed with patients and charts to keep up with and she'd hardly been sitting down until she collapsed in bed in the evenings. They had left Josie and Jennie with Lexie two nights in a row when Derek was called in for emergency patients, but tonight they were both off pretty early and she was looking forward to a quiet dinner.

The classroom was pretty empty by this time of the day. She knew many kids in Josie's class had stay-at-home moms that usually picked their children up early. Even the working parents used to try harder on Fridays and she wasn't surprised that she only saw a handful of jackets in the hallway.

She knocked lightly on the door and then stepped inside to see if she would see anyone in the inner rooms. Josie usually remained for after school activities, and on Fridays, the teachers used to stay on the grounds and let the children play.

"Mom!" Josie came running towards her. The shirt that Meredith had helped her with this morning was replaced with one Meredith almost had forgotten she'd once put in her locker. She had another little girl in tow, whose name Meredith couldn't quite remember.

"Hi there," she said, pulling her ponytail lightly as she came to an halt before her. "What happened to your clothes?"

"Brendan put colors on the floor. And I felled."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Meredith asked, looking for signs of a scraped palm or a slight limp.

"No. Mommy, can Alice come to our house and play? We played all day."

Meredith looked a little surprised. This was probably the first time she'd seen Josie play with another child when she came to pick her up and it was definitely the first time she'd ever asked to invite a friend over. She had gotten so used to finding her coloring at the table or reading a book by herself that she almost got stunned by the question.

"Actually, Josie, today is not a very good day," she began, but broke off when she saw Josie's expectant face fall. "But, since you two seem to be having such a good time, why not?"

She said it against her better judgment, in spite of her sore feet and aching body and the anticipation of a quiet night, but her daughter's bright smile warmed her heart.

"You have to call your mom first, Alice, right?" she asked the other girl. She had her light blonde hair in braids and her straight bangs fell over her forehead just above her eyebrows.

She gave Josie her iPhone and gathered her belongings while the girls disappeared to make the call and glanced anxiously at her wristwatch. Jennie's speech therapy would end in just twenty minutes and even though Sophie would take her home, she was eager to hear how her day had been. She wondered, not for the first time, if it would be helpful to Jennie this time, or if they once again had made the mistake of putting her through hours of treatment of no use to her.

"My mom wants to talk to you," Alice said, breaking off her thoughts as she held the cell out for Meredith to take. "She says I have to be home for dinner."

Alice's mom had moved to Seattle from Boston when she met her husband ten years ago and Meredith smiled a little at the well-known accent. She knew she'd met her before, but couldn't quite distinguish her from all the other moms crowding the PTAs she'd been to and Josie had never before been to Alice's house. Like Meredith, Alice's mom seemed to want a Friday night with her family and ensured Meredith she would pick up Alice in an hour or so.

The girls shuffled in next to each other in the backseat of the car. Meredith sent a grateful thought to Derek, who had insisted on buying a larger car as soon as they found out about Jennie's condition. Although there was now one more child in the car, she didn't have to fuss with moving Jennie's booster seat or let one girl sit in the front. She made sure that both Josie and Alice had fastened their seat belts before she steered out of the school's parking lot. They giggled and whispered happily with each other and she watched them with amazement in the rear-view mirror.

After that afternoon lying under the tree, where Josie had admitted how her classmates kept asking her questions she couldn't answer, she'd spent the better part of the weekend to coax her for the next week. When Monday came, though, Josie had blankly refused to go and nothing they'd say would change her mind. All their efforts had been met with punctuating silence and even when Derek got so frustrated that he yelled at her, she'd merely cried or blankly stared at them. Derek had scheduled a meeting with Ms. Thompson on Wednesday night, but after having called in sick for Josie and temporarily left her at Lexie's that day, he'd called and changed the meeting to that very night instead. After intense negotiations, they'd finally settled on an agreement; she'd go to school if Meredith went with her.

"Mom?" Josie had said in a little voice, clutching her hand as they walked down the corridor to her classroom the following morning. "You won't yell at them, right?"

"The kids in your class?" Meredith asked. "No. I'm not gonna be mad at them."

Josie peered up at her. "I think Dad is."

"Well, I _am_ mad," Meredith assured her. "But I'm not gonna tell them off, I promise."

Josie was quiet for a bit and dragged her feet as they walked through the now almost empty school. A few latecomers hurried past them and Meredith could hear their hasty steps on the stair. She didn't particularly like being late, but she knew that stressing Josie would cause her to totally shut down.

"I'm not," she repeated. "I'm just gonna hang in the back of the class, keeping around you at recess, talk to some of them as it comes, ok?

Josie mused a little at this. "It's not gonna help," she muttered at last.

And Meredith had been discouraged when she had to push Josie to join other girls at recess activitites, and to see her repeatedly stand back and give up her turn for someone more forward at different activitites in gym class. While Josie wasn't neither significantly worse nor better than anyone else, she was much less prone to hold her own. So at circle time before the school day ended, Meredith had cut straight to the chase. She'd asked for the word, and presented herself as Josie's mom. Then she'd asked if any of them knew the preschool girl in the wheelchair. They had looked a little surprised, but nodded obidiently.

"That's Josie's sister," Meredith had said, smiling. "You know, when she first started here, we were a little anxious. We didn't know how the other kids in her class would react to her wheelchair. So you know what we did? We came into class, and we told them about Jennie, so they wouldn't have to wonder, or act weird about it."

She'd felt Josie shrink a little in her seat next to her and squeezed her hand. As she'd anticipated, the kids agreed when she asked them if they thought they'd done the right thing.

"Yeah, they would have teased her if you hadn't," Sarah had said knowingly.

"Or asked her a lot of stupid questions," Zoe had added.

"Well, most questions are not stupid when there's something you don't know much about," Meredith had told them. "When we asked the kids what they were wondering about, they wanted to know why Jennie is in her wheelchair and if she's gonna walk anytime. They also wanted to know if they could try to sit in it sometimes or if she could play like them." She looked around the table. "You don't go to Jennie's class, but you see her everyday in the school. Maybe you have some questions too?"

They had, of course, and she'd guided them through the hole in the back and the walking training to the difficulty getting words out. She had finished by telling them that if they had any more questions, they should talk to Ms. Thompson.

"Josie doesn't know more than you do now," she said, looking every kid in the eye. "If anyone asks her, I trust you all to help her out and tell those kids to ask an adult."

Despite that Josie didn't dare to look at her classmates just then, it seemed to have helped. She'd come home without any complaints of stomach aches and she had yet to come in to the master bedroom after a nightmare. She'd even stopped to look relieved when she or Derek picked her up in the afternoons, and Meredith hoped it was a feeling that would last long. Josie had never been a kid to make friends easily, and she didn't really expect her to change all that much, but she watched like a hawk to make sure she didn't come home upset from being harassed by unwanted attention from her schoolmates. So far, it hadn't seemed so. And wanting to play with Alice after school was definitely a breakthrough.

Light streamed out from the house's windows when she steered into their driveway. Somebody was home and she wondered if Derek had beaten her or if Jennie had come home earlier than expected. If they could, they would have chosen for Jennie to have her speech therapy in school, like many other children did. But getting that whole machinery going; ensuring that the therapist at school was well versed in the CAS therapy program and getting the approval from the school for the financing would have taken a much longer time than enrolling Jennie at a private specialist at Seattle Grace.

She stepped out of the car. The air was chilly now that the afternoon sun was only a faded orange color behind the rooftops and she reminded herself that she had to root out warmer clothes for the children. The gravel crunched underneath their feet as the girls ran before her to the front door. Alice was looking curiously around her and Josie happily pointed out the swing they'd kept from Meredith's childhood home. Meredith cast a glance on her wristwatch and quickened her pace a little. She opened the front door just in time to hear noises from the kitchen, voices and the funny metallic sound from someone stirring a fork in a bowl.

"Hello," she called as she crooked her coat on a hook and dumped her shoulder bag on the chair in the corner. Usually, it was loaded with things like scarves, shirts or books, but someone – Meredith was tempted to say Derek – had cleaned it up since last time she'd tried to put something there. She smiled as she saw Jennie trot out of the kitchen and took the few remaining steps to meet her halfway.

"Hi, Ah-mmy," Jennie said and waved a little with her right hand. Someone had put her hair into a sloppy ponytail and she'd taken off the sweater Meredith had dressed her in this morning.

"Hello, Dr. Grey," Sophie said as she stepped out of the room. "Dr. Shepherd came home about the same time as we did. I was just leaving." She was a charismatic girl, short and chubby with deep dimples in both her cheeks and shiny dark waves over her shoulders. Meredith knew Jennie loved her and she understood why; Sophie was a natural with kids.

Because speech therapy would have been the school's responsibility, they'd agreed with the preschool staff that Sophie would take Jennie for her sessions like the other children were taken to their aftercare when the school day ended. It would also ensure that Sophie, and the preschool, knew enough to work in a similar way with Jennie all the other hours of the day. Since they'd only just begun, Meredith wasn't sure yet if the arraignment would work out to the best, and could only hope it would. She and Derek had enough trouble with their schedules without having to leave in the middle of a shift just to get Jennie a couple of hours early.

"Did everything go as planned?" Meredith asked.

"It was totally fine," Sophie assured her. "I think Jennie had a good time."

"She's reported to me, Meredith," Derek called from within the house. "I even got a list."

"Sorry," Meredith said with an apolegetic grimace. "I'll let you go. Have a good weekend."

Sophie smiled. "If you want to know more next week, just ask me. Goodbye, sweetie," she said, crouching down before Jennie. "I'll see you on Monday again. Have a great weekend."

Jennie and Meredith both waved a little as Sophie disappeared down the steps. Meredith looked at Jennie. A few loose strands framed her face and she ran her hand over her hair and tucked them behind her ears.

"Should we go see what Daddy's doing?"

"Where Oh-sie?"

"Josie's having a friend over today," Meredith said. "They're probably in her room."

"Me ah-so?"

Meredith pondered this for a few seconds. She guessed Josie probably would want Alice for herself, and seeing that it was the first time she'd ever brought someone over, Meredith wanted to make it a happy experience for her. In the light of what had gone down in school, she guessed Josie might be a little nervous to introduce Jennie to any of her classmates.

"I think maybe Josie wants to play alone with her friend," she told Jennie. "But what do you say we go and help Daddy in the kitchen for a while, and I go get them later?"

Jennie studied her for a few seconds. Her eyes darted to the left and she pouted her lips a little, just as if she couldn't decide if she should throw a fit about it or not.

"Hey, Bug," Derek called from the kitchen. "Where did you go? I need you here to help me keep track of all those vegetables."

Jennie tilted her head to the right and then nodded a little.

"Ah-ddy eeh-d me," she told Meredith.

She trotted back to where she'd come from and Meredith followed her, relieved that she hadn't caused a scene.

"Ah-ddy, where my oh-mae-toh?" Jennie asked as she entered the kitchen, holding out the miniature cutting board where three tomatoes had been cut into thin squares.

Derek looked up from the saucepan he was stirring. The hem of the blue t-shirt he'd probably changed into when he got home stretched across his back and showed a stripe of skin when he leaned forward to see what she was holding.

"Ah, the tomatoes," he commented. "Put them in a bowl over there together with the cucumber and the corn."

The apron he'd put on more for the sake of playing chef than anything else made Meredith smile as she sat down at the table. It had been a birthday gift she'd helped the girls pick out a few years ago and she wasn't really sure if he wore it to humor them or if he actually liked it.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "Just looking forward to Mexican is all. Do you need anything done?"

"I placed some avocados and chili fruits at the counter. You could start making the guacamole if you want. Where's Josie?"

"Ah-ddy, Oh-sie haf freh-nd," Jennie said before Meredith could reply. She watched Derek carefully when she said it, as if she wanted to see if it really was okay what Meredith had told her.

"Josie has a friend over?" Derek opened the cupboard and took out a few jars. "Is she staying for dinner?"

"She's not," Meredith said. "Her mom's picking her up in an hour."

She saw his curious look, but knew he wouldn't ask her about it until Jennie was out of earshot and so she walked over to the counter and started peeling the avocados he had bought at the supermarket earlier that day.

He had suggested Mexican a couple of days earlier and promised to both grocery shop and cook for it. The girls had been thrilled. Both of them liked being in the kitchen while dinner was being made. Sometimes they tried to make themselves useful but often just sitting in there seemed to appeal to them. Meredith never really knew why. She had extended her culinary skills over the years, working with small steps, and could without much hesitation fix dinner from what they had in the fridge, but she never enjoyed it like Derek did.

"Did you schedule that glioma patient for next week, Derek?" Meredith asked as her mind for some reason shifted from one of the subjects she mostly dwelled upon, her children, to the second, her work.

"I did." He nodded as he poured taco spice mix into the frying pan. "They're desperate for this to work."

"I know," Meredith said quietly, reaching for the bowl on the far end of the table and holding it out for Jennie to scoop more vegetables into. "I would too."

The method they'd invented back when she was still in her residency, the one then so infamously called the Shepherd method, had since then been used on a steadily growing number of patients. They'd adjusted it with time; knowing now that the dosages needed to be different for a child than an adult patient, but they still never felt fully confident when treating someone as young as Anna James. She was only six, but small for her age and when Meredith met her during the consultation, she'd been painfully aware that this easily could have been one of her own daughters.

Derek studied her with something in his eyes she couldn't really place. "Me too," he said.

"Me ooh," Jennie agreed, looking from one parent to the other, tired of being left out of the conversation.

Derek chuckled and Meredith couldn't help but giggle. Derek pushed the minced meat around one last time, then turned off the stove and sat down across from her. "That's good to know," he replied, looking at Jennie, a smile still playing at his lips.

Meredith shot him a look. "Come here," she asked Jennie. "Tell us how your day was."

Jennie looked up from the chair where Derek had placed her so that she would easier reach the table. "Good," she nodded.

"Yeah?" Meredith prodded. "What did you do?"

"Pway," Jennie replied as she kept laying the pepper slices one by one into the bowl.

"And after that? Did you go to the hospital with Miss Sophie?"

"Yeah."

"What did you think about it, Bug?" Derek asked. "Did you have a hard time with it?"

She nodded seriously. "Eh-caush me ahnt say words."

Meredith bit her lip, but Jennie didn't sound upset about it. She was merely stating that in fact; she couldn't speak the words she was asked. She wasn't sure how to react to it, and she saw that Derek wasn't either.

"She nice," Jennie added, as if she understood her parents needed some encouragement. "She, I ay-k she."

"That's good," Meredith hurried to say. "That's really good. What did you do?"

Jennie's face lit up and she let go of the vegetables and pushed at the table to make her chair go backwards so that she could step down from it.

"Easy, Bug," Derek said, holding the chair steady while she climbed down from it. "Where are you going?"

Jennie didn't reply instantly. She took the few steps into the hallway and was soon back with her backpack in a fast grip. She put it down on the floor and began to rummage in it until she found what she was looking for.

"I do it," she said and put the notebook and dark blue thick color pen on the table before stretching her hands up for Derek to lift her up on her chair again. She leaned over the paper and spent over one minute bent over it before she straightened up and let them see.

Meredith and Derek both reached forward to inspect her work. On the paper stood the three first letters of the alphabet, woobly and pretty large and far outside any lines.

"We do ehtt-ers," Jennie informed.

"Wow, Bug," Derek said. "That's fantastic. Look at that. You can already write your letters."

Jennie nodded. Then she held her right hand up and clumsily and slowly signed the letters for A, B and C. They were a little hard to interpret and not entirely correct, but she smiled proudly anyway.

"You learned how to sign as well? That's great," Meredith told her. "You will know the whole alphabet before you know it. Do you remember that we used to sign when you were little?"

They'd stopped signing some year ago, when Jennie made herself sufficiently understood with them, but Meredith had always felt a nagging bad conscience over not keeping it up. She was sure Jennie needed it in preschool more than she told them. She suspected today's therapy session had been primarily about sound awareness and not so much about compensatory strategies, but if she got to learn it properly and in a context that motivated her, nothing could be better until her speech improved.

"Sounds like a very productive day for you, Bug," Derek said and ruffled her hair a little. "Mommy and I are proud of you."

By the time all the vegetables were properly cut up and Jennie had, with a little assistance of Derek, put them all into separate bowls, it was only about twenty minutes until Alice's mom would pick her up. Meredith went down the hall and knocked lightly on Josie's door.

Josie was sitting cross-legged on the floor with her album of bookmarks open in front of her. Alice sat on her knees next to her and leaned over the book, pointing out various bookmarks that Josie had collected.

"I have that one too," she said as Meredith gently stepped in behind them. "And that one, but this is not so usual. I have two of the green ones though. My mom found them in Portland for me."

She made it sound like Portland was at least half a continent away. Meredith smiled and knocked on the doorframe again, a little harder this time.

"Hi there," she said. "Alice, your mom will come get you in fifteen minutes or so. Do you want to come into the kitchen and get something to drink first?"

Josie looked a little apprehensively at her, but didn't say anything. Alice carefully closed the album and stood up. She smoothed out her wrinkled t-shirt and looked seriously at Meredith.

"Yes, I want to. But I'm allergic to milk and my mom says I can't have soda on weekdays. Do you have anything else?"

Meredith raised her eyebrows a little, but smiled at Josie's friend and nodded. "I can make you some lemonade, would that be ok? Or do you want just water?"

"Lemonade's good," Alice declared.

They could hear Derek and Jennie's voices as they walked towards the kitchen area and Meredith saw Josie cast a nervous glance at her friend. Alice, though, stepped right in without taking notice. Josie took a few tentative steps behind her while Meredith lingered in the door opening. Jennie was still sitting at the table. She was busy telling Derek something about the Disney movie they'd taken the children to last weekend and that Josie had appointed her favorite movie in the whole world.

Derek was standing at the sink, washing up a few dishes. He turned around when Jennie suddenly stopped speaking and smiled welcoming at the two other girls that now had appeared at the table.

"Hi," he said and dried his hands with the towel that hung over the oven's handle. "I'm Josie's dad."

"I know, you're a doctor," Alice stated. "My brother hit his head when he drove his motorcycle and you were his doctor then. He's really my half-brother, because I'm Mom's first child, but it's stupid to say all the time."

"I guess you're right," Derek said amusedly, a little taken aback by the rambling. "What's your brother's name?"

"Lucas Ruemann. It's spelled with two 'n' although it doesn't sound like it. I'm Alice."

"Nice to meet you, Alice," Derek replied. "This is Jennie, Josie's little sister."

Jennie hadn't stopped staring at Alice since she stepped into the kitchen and was way too fascinated still to acknowledge that Derek introduced her.

"I know," Alice said again. "I've seen you in school. My other brother, he's smaller than me, he goes to your preschool class. His name is Nick. I guess you know him."

"Mom said we could get lemonade," Josie interjected before Jennie could reply. "Can we?"

"Well, if Mom said it, I guess I'd better make you some." Derek winked at Meredith and opened a cupboard to take out a large pitcher. While he was busy preparing the drinks, Josie sat down at the table across from Jennie, but Alice's eyes lit up and she walked right up to the refrigerator.

"Look, you have fridge letters," she said delighted. "I can write our names." She started spelling out first Josie's, then her own and lastly Jennie's. "Luckily you have a lot of them," she commented.

The letters were a gift from Lexie not that long ago at all. She'd told Meredith she'd wanted to get them refrigerator poetry, but changed her mind and instead bought letters for the children to play with. Josie had had a lot of fun with them the first days, but then it had worn off a little and now she only played with them occasionally. Derek and Meredith hoped Jennie would benefit from them now that she was starting to discover letters. It was good for her a little clumsy fine motor skills to actually shuffle around the letters instead of writing them.

"You did it wrong," Josie said suddenly, pointing to where Alice had tried to spell out their surname beneath the others. "It's an H too. After the P."

Alice studied her work. "Is it?" she asked Derek.

"She's right," he replied. "It's Shepherd with an H. But come sit now, Alice. The lemonade's ready and I'm sure your mom will be here any minute."

He'd put two glasses and a blue cup for Jennie on the table, but as soon as he took it to pour some lemonade into it, she shook her head.

"I ooh want it," she said decidedly, pointing at the other's glasses and looked defiantly at Derek.

"You want a regular glass?" he asked, and when she nodded, he gave her one without a protest. It was harder for her with a regular glass, but he sensed that this was not the time to point that out. "Would any of you like a straw?" he asked, careful to not only offer Jennie one.

When both the older girls shook their heads, Jennie did too, and he shrugged. Alice looked curiously at Jennie, but sipped in silence on her drink until just a few minutes later when the doorbell rang.

"It's Mom," she said and jumped up from her chair. "Thanks for the lemonade. Josie, see you in school on Monday. Bye, Jennie."

Dinner provided just the quiet and relaxing Meredith had longed for. Josie seemed happy and when they asked her about Alice, she told them how she'd asked her to play during recess and then kept asking her when lessons were over. She shrugged when Derek asked her if she wanted to go to Alice's house this weekend, and they didn't press her further. Meredith hoped their friendship would blossom, but she knew Josie had to set the pace.

Jennie had kept trying to join the conversation, but Meredith sensed that she really wasn't able to put into words what she wanted to say. She hoped she would maybe try again later at bedtime. It was usually easier for her to express herself when they were lying together talking about her day. Rather than having Jennie's frustration boiling over into a fit, Meredith suggested a family game before the girls could watch some TV before bed.

It was Friday after all. At Ellis's house, Friday had been no special day. She usually worked and Meredith had to spend time with a sitter. There was no weekend feeling, no fancy food and no movie nights. Meredith always envied what she saw the Friday nights she got invited to friends' houses; whole families snuggled up on the couch, sodas and popcorn, a rented movie. Of course, those idyllic scenes didn't necessarily stay picture perfect - children wailed, parents yelled, or the movies had to be turned off before the end scene because no one watched it anyway. Nonetheless, it gave Meredith the feeling that weekends should be special. She'd wanted it as a kid and now she wanted it for her kids.

"Mom, can we play Guess Who?" Josie asked.

Meredith stifled a sigh. They'd played Guess Who to death the past months. It was Josie's newest obsession and she never failed to beg for it, although both Meredith and Derek had gotten tired of it a long time ago.

"Actually," Meredith suggested lightly, "I thought we could try out that new game, the one Mark got you. We can all play that one."

"We can play Guess Who, all of us," Josie insisted. "You're with me and Daddy plays with Jennie."

They'd done that a few times, but the only one really enjoying it like that was Josie. Whoever was on her team didn't get to do much but agree with her. Jennie used to sit with her or Derek for five minutes or so, happily watching the different faces and occasionally trying to put them down whether it was required or not. She was too little to play by herself and even if she sometimes could point out which ones should go down if she or Derek prodded, she usually ended up wanting to do something else pretty fast.

"You know Jennie's not really into it," Meredith told Josie. "Let's try something we all can enjoy, ok?"

"Ah-mmy," Jennie called from where she was standing at the bookcase where they kept some of the children's games. "Ah-mmy, Ahn-dy-and!"

"No, Mommy!" Josie said immediately. "That's for babies, I'm not playing it."

Candyland was the usual to-go game if Jennie got to decide. It gave her a break from all the educational games Meredith used to try with her to practice numbers and colors, or dexterity or language skills. But Meredith knew there was no hope of getting Josie to agree to Candyland and she didn't even try.

"Not tonight, Jennie," Meredith told her now. "We're gonna try this new game. Come on, both of you, help me set it up."

Jennie opened her mouth to protest, but when Derek stepped out from the kitchen and scooped her up from behind and tickled her, she burst out into a giggle and forgot to object.

"We're gonna do as Mommy says tonight, aren't we, Bug?" Derek asked her and winked at Meredith as he carried Jennie to the couch. "Or she will turn into a green, three-eyed monster. And we don't want that, do we?"

"Not ohn-sehr, Ah-mmy," Jennie squealed and shook her head.

Derek opened the box that Meredith had put onto the table and told Jennie to help him set the parts up. Eventually, Josie sat down next to him and reluctantly started to assist him.

"We can still play Who's there later, Daddy," she told him. "You and me, when Jennie has to go to bed."

"Me ah-so," Jennie said immediately. "I oh-nt seeh-p."

"We'll see," Derek replied, intervening before any of them could pick a fight. "Mommy promised you could watch some TV before bed, so let's just see what happens when we're done here, ok?" He finished placing out the different parts and started skimming through the instructions.

Mark rarely visited them spontaneously like Meredith's friends did, but he had suddenly popped by after work a couple of weeks ago. Meredith had been alone with the kids, but assured Mark that Derek would be home in just an hour or so and invited him for something to drink. He'd hesitated a little, but then shrugged and accepted and sat in her kitchen as she prepared the dinner. Josie had been a little reluctant to talk to him, but Jennie had eagerly tried to engage him in conversation, or insisted to show him all her latest toys.

He'd disappeared into the living room together with them when Meredith had laughed and told him that would be the easiest way for him to get some peace and quiet. Ten minutes later, just as she finished chopping up some carrots, Josie had been running into the kitchen to show her what Mark had gotten them.

"I'd just thought... with Jennie's hospital stay and all... I don't know, they said at the store that kiddos like these so...," Mark had shrugged, embarassed, when Meredith told the kids to thank him.

Even if Mark hadn't really offered to babysit like her own friends, he regularly asked Derek to come out with him on weekends and to bring the girls along. In his own way, he'd formed a sort of friendship with their girls, and even if Josie was a little shy, Meredith knew they both liked him.

"Ok, let's see," Derek said when Meredith sat down after having brought out some lemonade and a bowl of healthy snacks mix that she and Derek tried to get the children instead of candy loaded with sugar. Jennie was rather indifferent about them but Josie was a health nut just like Derek.

"How do you play it?" she asked impatiently now and grabbed a handful of dried nuts.

"This is a cootie," Derek explained and held up the cardbox box for them to see the picture.

"Ew!" Josie said. "I don't like those."

"Ew," Jennie mimicked, looking interestedly at Josie.

Meredith only listened with one ear as Derek went through the rules with Jennie and Josie. She'd had this game as a kid, although she'd only played it with nannies or her friends. She could hardly remember a single time that Ellis had sat down with her just to play a game for fun. The game looked a lot cooler now; the cootie's parts were in brighter colors, the eyes looked much more realistic, and there were different kinds of antennaes to choose from.

Derek let Josie go first and she rolled the dice and quickly chose the yellow body that went with the number one. Jennie got the same number and just as quickly hogged the red one. A couple of turns went round where neither Meredith nor Derek managed to roll a number one. Josie on the other hand, rolled a number two on her second try and triumphantly snatched the yellow head to her body.

Jennie kept looking at Josie, and as soon as she'd rolled the dice again, reached eagerly for the red cootie body.

"No!" Josie shot at her immediately. "You can't take that. Right, Daddy?"

"I haf eh-d," Jennie replied and looked at Meredith for confirmation. "Ah-mmy, I haf eh-d."

They'd tried to use games to stress the importance of turn-taking with her; her speech limitations sometimes overruled the turn-taking practice they'd gotten for free with Josie. They'd mostly played straight-forward games where you moved your piece or you picked a card, though. When Meredith searched her brain, she realized they'd probably never played a game that would deal the players different advantages.

"You do have red," she agreed now. "But Josie's right too, you can only take the head if you get a two. You'll have to wait for next turn and see."

"Why?"

"Because those are the rules. See these numbers going with each part of the cootie? That means you get the part that belongs to the number, ok? And before you can take any other part, you need to get the body and the head."

"See, Bug," Derek interjected. "You're way ahead of me and Mommy. We haven't got anything yet. Shall we see if I can roll a number one this time?"

Jennie studied him for a couple of seconds and then decided to let go. "Mommy, you not got any," she informed her and plopped the dices into Derek's palm.

After a few more turns, Josie had collected half her cootie, and Jennie's eyes kept flickering to the yellow creation standing before her. She'd at least managed to get her head, but had missed out on her free roll and then gotten a number one again and had to leave over to Derek. Now she rolled it fiercly with a defiant glance at Josie.

"A four!" Meredith exclaimed. "Good job, which part do you take now?"

Jennie reached forward and scrutinized the cardbox, then grabbed a pair of eyes that looked like the giant serpent's in Harry Potter. After that, the game lost a little speed when no one really scored a lucky number for four or five rounds. Josie sighed and scooted back on the couch. She drew her knees up under her and leaned backwards, only to immediately jump forward when Jennie grabbed a yellow antenna and tried to fasten it onto her head.

"Mommy! She can't do that!"

"Ok, Jennie," Meredith sighed. "You can only take red pieces, remember? Red's your color."

"Want yey-ow."

"Next time we play, you can pick yellow," Derek told her, holding his hand out for her to give him the piece. "Now you have the red one."

Instead of handing over her antenna, Jennie took a new one, this time Meredith's blue and put on the other side of her cootie's head.

"Jennie, come on," Derek said. "Put these back and give me the dice. You can't take two in a row."

Jennie didn't listen to him. She rolled the dice herself and lightened up when she got a six. She scrolled the cardbox with her finger until she reached to sections where the cootie legs were placed and picked a few of them up.

"Mommy! She destroys the game!" Josie whined.

"Put them back," Meredith said, putting her hand on Jennie's arm and holding out the other one for the pieces. "It's not your turn anymore."

"I ahn haf," Jennie informed her, reaching out for yet another piece.

"You can't take them!" Josie leaned forward, put one hand on Derek's knee and tried to pry the piece out of Jennie's hand with her other.

"Aaah," Jennie screamed and clenched her fist hard. She shook it back and forth but before she could hit Josie, Derek held out both his arms and prevented them from getting to each other.

"Stop it," he said sternly. "Both of you."

"But Daddy, it's not fair," Josie cried, but sat back. "She does it wrong!"

Jennie didn't say anything, she just kept wriggling in Derek's grip, still refusing to let go of her pieces. Meredith had seen the pattern before; whenever she got upset, her words seemed to get even harder to get out. Often all they got was a unarticulated scream like now.

"Jennie," she said and tried to make herself heard over her wailing. "I think it's time for bed, ok?"

"Naaah," Jennie shouted again, this time opening her fist and throwing the antenna across the table so that it landed next to Meredith's chair. She lunged forward and made her arm dash over the table so that the four cooties standing there all fell over and rubbed the cardbox out of its place.

Derek loosened his grip of her briefly to shift his hands and lift her up completely. He put her into his lap, holding her steady to avoid her wriggling. She couldn't kick like a typical kid, but her body language left no doubt that she wanted to be let down.

She's tired, Meredith mouthed to Derek. He nodded in agreement and instead of admonishing her further, he simply held her tight with one arm and stroked her hair with the other. He kept up the rhythmic motions until he felt her body grow limp.

"Bug?" he said gently. "Can you tell me and Mommy why you got angry? Try to use your words instead of screaming, ok? Try to use your signs if you want."

Meredith kept her breath, afraid that the screaming would start up again, but Jennie sat up a little straighter in Derek's lap, sighing a little. "Oh-sie hit me," she said, her voice almost hitching a little at the injustice.

"You cheated!" Josie shot back, her arms crossed over her chest where she sat back against the couch. "And now you have destroyed all the cooties too."

"Ok, Jennie, Josie wasn't right to hit you, but do you understand what made her angry?" Derek asked. "What did you do?"

"Yey-ow," Jennie mumbled.

"You took the yellow parts? Ok, and those weren't the rules, were they? And then you didn't wait for your turn." Derek hoisted her up a little bit so that he could see her face. "Do you want to say anything about that?"

"I oh-nt pway." Jennie leaned backwards and put her head against Derek's chest.

"You don't have to play more," Meredith agreed. "But how about you tell Josie sorry you tried to hit her? Then you and I could go change into your pajamas, ok? And then you could come in here again to see your show before bed, how does that sound?"

Jennie pursed her lips together for a little while as she pondered what Meredith had said, and then she turned to Josie. She made a quick sign that with a little good will could be interpreted as 'I'm sorry' and then slid down from Derek's lap and stretched her arms up for Meredith. She blamed herself for being such a sucker already before she did it, but rather than provoke yet another outburst, she picked Jennie up and carried her upstairs. Behind her, she heard Derek tell Josie that if she helped him clean up the Cootie game, they could do a quick round of Who's There before the show would start.

"I have a good feeling about it," Meredith said to Derek a few hours later, when the girls had fallen asleep. It wasn't really that late, but Meredith felt her lingering cold taking its toll and had decided on an early night. Derek, always the good sport, had agreed and gone to the bathroom while she was changing out of her shirt and jeans.

He stuck his head out from the bathroom. "About what?"

"The speech therapy. I mean, it's just the first day, and we don't know anything yet..." She unbuttoned her shirt, took it off and scrutinized a tiny stain before she draped it over a chair. "But it just feels good."

"She seems happy about it," Derek agreed.

"Yeah. Yeah, she does. But still... Derek, what if this is just as fruitless than anything we did before?

"We have a diagnosis now," he said. "It's different. I know... it's hard to know what's right. But it's different this time. You don't feel it?"

She looked at him. "I think so."

She pulled her t-shirt over her head and crawled into her side of the bed. Derek turned off the lights and left only a the small bedside lamp on before he pulled off the covers on his side and wedged his arm in under her back. She sighed and scooted closer to him so that she lay flush against him. She could no longer remember how nights had been without Derek. That feeling of having the very same person so close every night for the rest of their foreseeable future sometimes still overwhelmed her.

Derek was her rock, the one that kept her on earth when she needed to freak out, and the one who assured her everything would be ok when she was too down to see it herself. She was sure this was just the beginning for them. There would once again be days of grieving for the loss of another ability in their daughter. If Jennie's previous diagnosis had taught her anything, though, it was that she could trust Derek no matter what. She could allow herself to grieve. She could give in for that need she sometimes had for finding an rational explanation. And she could still trust Derek to be there for her, just as he'd promised the day they married.

"I read about this great preschool," she whispered. "I Googled it. It's focused on children with speech disorders."

"Where?" Derek murmured.

"In Tacoma." Meredith rolled her head a little to find a more comfortable position, quiet for a few seconds. "It seems really good."

"You want her to go there?" he asked.

"She's thriving where she is," she replied. "She likes the other children. They know her. We like the staff. Everything's fine as it is..."

"Yeah."

"But she needs this stimulation now," Meredith said quietly. "Not in two years."

"What happens if she goes?"

It had gnawed on her mind the last days. The last time she'd spoken to Jennie's speech therapist, she'd mentioned there were specialized schools that had had tremendous impact on children with disorders like Jennie's. Could they afford not to send her to one? Could they stand doing it, knowing that it meant taking her from her known environment, and maybe risk losing all her other therapy opportunities she now was entitled to?

"I... I don't know."

"Meredith. What happens if she stays?"

As far as they knew, Jennie wasn't unhappy. She had friends and she could make herself understood by the staff. And yet, she was four years old. The differences between her and the other children her age started to show. In a year, or even less, they would appear even more. She would no longer have the advantage of being little and able to play anyway, not when the games got more and more centered around communication. Other kids would soon not just give her insignificant roles in their games; they might not give her any at all. What would happen when she started first grade, and the children in her class didn't know her from before?

"I'm not sure."

"Neither am I," Derek told her. "But I know we will make the right decision. We'll talk to the therapist. To the staff. To that school."

They had to give her the best advantages while they still could. Heavy training and constant focus would never in any years to come be easier. She was still young enough to make use of intensive training. But would it outweigh the disadvantage of uprooting her from everything known?

"Sleep on it?"

"Yeah."

Although thoughts just swirled around in her head, she was tired enough to actually fall asleep pretty much as soon as Derek put his other hand on her hip and turned off the bed lamp. He was right. They would sleep on it. They would research their options. They would do the best they could for their child.

_A/N - Well, there you go. Not a lot of exciting stuff happening, but a little family time and a lot of pondering for Meredith and Derek. We'll see what the future has held for them in the next installment, which will be divided into two parts. It will be up pretty soon, too - welcome back then :)_


	10. Keep walking just beside me, part I

_A/N - So here's the first part of this story's last chapter. A little bittersweet! This chapter takes place a couple of years after chapter 8, so we'll see what has happened since then. I generally like writing Meredith and Derek hanging out together just with the kids (I think they actually do in most chapters), but here they'll meet with a couple of other people. I hope it turned out okay. Happy reading! _

"Dad, come on!" Josie dragged out the last syllable to really stress her impatience and tugged Derek's sleeve while she trudged forward.

Derek chuckled and turned around to localize Meredith. She was sitting in front of Jennie's wheelchair, helping her adjusting the straps on her top. She looked up and met his gaze.

"Go on," she called. "We're coming in just a second."

Derek nodded. "Let's go," he told Josie. "Where are we heading?"

"The tropical rain forest!" Josie exclaimed. "'I want to see the monkeys."

"The monkeys, huh?" Derek said amusedly. "Ok, lead the way."

He followed his daughter who eagerly bounced a couple of steps in front of him. Her blue and white striped sleeveless top and white shorts that Meredith had bought her just a couple of days ago made him realize just how tall she'd grown. She had turned nine in the beginning of the year and would begin fourth grade in just a couple of weeks. He couldn't quite imagine where time had gone, but savored every moment his girls still wanted him to tag along. He knew that all too soon, it would be hard to get even a minute of their day.

He smiled as he tried to keep up with Josie and her enthusiasm. Since they first attended an event with the Spina Bifida Association of Washington State last summer, both girls had constantly been asking him and Meredith when they would go back. Last time, Josie had been a little shy in the face of new surroundings and new meetings, but today, she seemed totally relaxed and happy to know how everything worked. They'd learned over time that she, much more than Jennie, was a child who needed to be prepared, who kept to routines and was much happier at times when she knew what to expect.

This year's summer picnic was being held in Woodland Park just southeast of Green Lake. Derek hadn't been there much in all those years he'd lived here. Usually, he preferred the woods or a secluded lake where he could fish pretty undisturbed. Sometimes he and Meredith would take the children to a park for a weekend trip, but Seattle had many great parks so he wasn't that familiar with Woodland.

Just as last year, they'd arrived a few hours early. Meredith and Derek had found that a bit of family time together before joining all the others was a great way of taking the edge of the eager anxiousness. They wouldn't have the opportunity to visit the Woodland Park Zoo on the other side of Aurora Avenue once they'd met with the other families, and both Josie and Jennie had requested a visit.

"Dad?"

Josie weighed a little on her left foot where she'd stopped to wait right outside the residence of the black-and-white colubus monkeys, impatiently chewing on her lip. Her hair was just as dark and curly as ever, but this summer a little longer than she'd worn it before. She'd asked Meredith to put it in a french braid down her back and the summer's sun hours had made her skin deepen one shade and her freckles appear more clearly.

"Did you know that monkeys have four stomachs? Like cows."

Derek studied the large color poster right next to the gate. "You're right."

"Why?"

Derek smiled. Josie hadn't been very openly curious as a younger child. She was bright and a really fast learner, but sometimes he'd sensed that she preferred to figure things out for herself. Lately, she'd been more prone to asking them questions, though. Especially the why of things.

"It says here it's because they eat a lot of leaves. They need a lot of stomach space to digest it, or they wouldn't be able to eat enough for them to keep their energy up."

"Oh," Josie said. "Can you have a monkey for a pet?"

Derek chuckled. Lately, Josie had been dropping hints about all sorts of animals, telling them that just about everyone in her class had a dog that slept in their bed at night, or hogging the newspaper each morning just to triumphantly point out seller's ads for kittens. Meredith and Derek had both resisted this ongoing lobbying, although they'd briefly discussed taking in a cat.

"Well," he said. "You _can_ have a pet monkey..."

"...but _you're_ certainly not going to have one," Meredith finished firmly from behind, shooting him a look as she gently pushed Jennie's chair over a slight incline.

"Mom!" Josie said, making a face. "Don't you think they are cute?"

"They're almost as big as me," Meredith pointed out. "And they have a lot of hair."

"Me too!" Jennie announced and gestured at the glass wall. Meredith pushed her a little forward, close up to the wall, but it still wasn't enough. She wobbled a little as she stood up, and Derek took a few steps to steady her. She shook him off, though, balancing herself against the low barrier. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the colubus monkey mother making her way over the grounds with a tiny monkey with white fuzzy fur following in her wake.

"See, Jen?" Derek asked. "These apes have no thumb like other apes do. That way they can climb with all four limbs at the same time. Do you know what country they come from?"

Jennie shook her head, still fascinated with the primates and not turning to look at him.

"Well, what country do you know that has a rain forest? A jungle?"

"Afri-ha," Jennie informed him. "But it is a ohn-tinent." She sat down again in her chair and turned around so that she could look at him. "Don't dem uhn-er-shand English den?" she asked, concerned.

Derek stifled a little laugh. When Jennie had gotten her diagnosis, he'd only hoped that they would have conversations like this someday. It had seemed so far away at the time, but now he savored every time she was able to express herself in a way that did her mind and thoughts justice.

"I guess they learn," he replied, taking the question seriously. "They're probably mostly talking to each other anyway."

They had her current kindergarten to thank for so much. Researching their options had felt like an impossible task. They'd been torn between feeling they rushed the decision and that it took forever to reach a conclusion. But after reasoning with speech therapists, getting second opinions and visiting the available kindergartens to see for themselves what kind of work was done there, they'd finally enrolled Jennie into a school that specialized in speech and language. The group of children was small and led by therapists and teachers who worked with each child to maximize their abilities.

"Mommy, goh-illas!"

"I see," Meredith smiled. "And there are lemurs. See the ones with the red fur?"

"Yes. I read about mon-hees. In sh-ool."

Jennie's days were structured in a totally different way than in her last preschool. Combined with regular classes, she also had speech therapy sessions and oral motor training, both individually and together with other children. It seemed to Derek that all activities, whether designed for it or not, were focused on developing and stimulating language. They read aloud, used signs at all times, and had a way of working with terms and words in a thorough way that really let the children get the feel for it.

Jennie's diagnosis was rare even in this group. Most of the other children had a speech or language delay that also made it hard for them to understand instructions or realize the advantages with communication. Derek knew Jennie thrived here, when she often got to be one of the children who succeeded.

While they slowly worked their way over the park, Josie ran before them. She waved eagerly at them to hurry each time she found a new, exciting animal. Jennie wasn't long behind, wheeling herself as fast as she could to join her sister. Derek glanced at Meredith. She looked relaxed where she strolled next to him, her handbag slung over her shoulder and her sunglasses on top of her head.

"This is nice, isn't it?"

She smiled at him. "Yeah."

They walked in silence for a little while. Derek could see Josie glare at kids who walked by and stared at Jennie's wheelchair. He knew she found it hard getting that kind of attention from strangers, but she seemed to have toughened up a little. Jennie seemed not to care today, although lately, they'd noticed her go quiet a few times after trips to crowded places like the mall or the beach. When they asked her about it, she'd tell them she didn't like it when other kids stared, but hadn't seemed to eager to talk about it. Derek wasn't sure of how to handle it.

"Jennie told me she wanted to meet Shannon again," Meredith said.

"She did?" Derek replied. "I hope they'll be there. Maybe this year we're gonna get our act together and actually get them a play date."

Last year, when they first met with several other children and adults with spina bifida, Jennie had been a little hesitant to begin with. She'd mostly kept to Meredith and looked with big eyes at the sudden lot of people with walkers or wheelchairs. When she'd warmed up a little, she'd started to play on her own with a couple of the other kids, and afterwards she'd talked about that day over and over again. Shannon was a year older, chatty and with a wit and a wild streak. Derek had studied them together, thinking that maybe she was a little too bold for Jennie, but the girls had got on surprisingly well.

It had been their intention all year to get together with Shannon's family so that the girls could hang out with each other without having to wait for next summer's picnic, but school and the everyday life had gotten in their way. He hoped that this year the girls could use the computer to keep in touch with each other. Jennie, as many other kids, handled the computer with a naturalness that he most certainly didn't have as a child.

"Derek," Meredith said, nudging him a little. He looked up and saw that Josie had stopped at one of the stands along the windy road they were currently walking. Jennie was still a few yards behind her, watching penguins strolling around behind a fence. The woman standing behind the counter seemed a little worn; she must have handed out a whole lot of whatever it was that she was selling, and it was hot enough outside to make Derek long for a dip in the ocean.

They sped up a little when they saw the lady lean over the counter and say something. She didn't smile and Derek found it best to be around should there be a need to intervene. They stopped a few steps behind though, and watched her face lit up as Jennie wheeled herself up right next to Josie and craned her neck to better see.

"Hi there," she said. "Do you both like liquorice chewy ropes?"

"Yes!" Jennie told her immediately. Josie nodded along, but didn't say anything.

"Well, do you want to taste some of mine? I have a lot of flavors. Do you have a favorite?" She held out a plate that was placed on the counter, where ropes in different colors were cut up into small pieces.

Jennie leaned eagerly forward, but Josie hesitated a little. "We're not allowed to take candy from someone we don't know," she said.

"Oh, I see," the woman replied. She looked up and let her eyes wander over the crowd that endlessly streamed along. "Are those your parents right over there?" she asked when she caught sight of Derek and Meredith.

Josie turned around and nodded shyly.

"Sir, would it be all right with you if your girls got to taste a bit of my candy?" the woman called. "No need to buy."

Derek saw that Meredith didn't particularly liked the idea. But he remembered market places from when he was little, the magical feeling of tasting, smelling and seeing candy in all sorts of forms and the salesmen with funny hats and broad accents and how special he'd felt when they spoke to him.

"Let them try," he told Meredith. "It's something special. And it is Saturday after all." She shrugged and he smiled at the woman and nodded. "That's fine," he called back.

"Here you go, sweetie," the woman said and offered Josie first. "What flavor do you like? We've got strawberry and cherry – those are the red ones over there. The green and yellow ones are watermelon and orange. Or do you prefer black liquorice?"

Josie let her hand circle over the plate for a few seconds before deciding on a strawberry piece.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"And here's for your sister – you're sisters, aren't you?" the woman asked. "I'm sorry, dear, I can't quite reach you over there. Can you tell me which one you want?"

"Ohr-ansh," Jennie said.

The woman's smile got a little unsure. "I'm sorry, I didn't get that," she said.

"Ohr-ansh," Jennie said again.

"Orange," Josie clarified when the woman's smile faltered even more.

"Oh, right! Well, sweetie, here you go." She picked a yellow piece from her plate and reached over the counter to put it in Jennie's outstretched hand. "One orange for you."

The man standing behind her in the counter popped out his head from where he was working. "Want to see something cool?" he asked.

Jennie stared at him and Derek understood why. He was big, had very little hair and several tattoos on his bare arms, but he smiled heartily and directed them both to the back of the stand and showed them how he put a large, red dried mass into a chopper.

"See this?" He waved at a bench right to their left where a batch of tinplates were piled up on top of each other. "Each night, we mix together all ingredients and heat them up until they become liquid. Then we form it and let it dry until we get this mass out of it. Each time we run out of candy, we chop up a new one."

"That's really cool, isn't it, Jen?" Derek said. She'd followed the big man with big eyes as he talked and now she nodded eagerly.

"It is cah-ndy, Daddy," she informed him, pointing to the tinplates.

"That's right. What do you say we buy each of you a chewy rope before we leave?"

"You too. And Mommy too," Jennie said.

He took out his wallet and gave the woman a five dollar bill. He picked Jennie up from her chair and put her on his shoulders so that she could truly see the different choices and let her pick which one she wanted. When they'd gotten their four pieces in a little bag, that Jennie happily clutched in her knee, they smiled at the stand's owners.

"Thank you very much," Derek said.

"Thank you," the woman smiled back. "I hope you enjoy your candy."

"Come back anytime to see the candy making," the big man added.

It was funny, Derek thought, how unexpected things could sometimes happen with Jennie around. More than a few times before had total strangers offered gifts or gone out of their way to do something kind for her. This woman had looked so brusque at first, but totally lightened up the moment Jennie came wheeling towards her. In many cases, things could be just the opposite. Derek knew Jennie already had experienced being met by uncertainty, or avoidance, or hesitance to approach. She would likely experience it again. And when that happened, it was important to remember times like these.

They walked for a few minutes, steering their way onto the left parkway, and passed the sun bear and the sloth bear. The children were happily chewing their candy, and Derek convinced Meredith that they should eat along. As they walked through a particularly narrow part of the walkway, they saw several people lean forward with their cameras.

"Daddy, what is doing there?" Jennie asked Derek. She was still sitting on his shoulders, and Meredith pushed the wheelchair.

Josie tried to stand on her toes to see what all the commotion was about.

"That bear is eating a bug," she reported. "It's sucking it in. Gross!"

"Daddy, gross!" Jennie repeated and giggled.

"If you say so," Derek said and put her down in her chair again. His arms started to hurt and he was afraid not to be able to hold her if she wriggled a little and lost her balance. They continued to walk and when they'd covered the Australasia, the African Savanna and the Tropical Asia, Derek found it best to take a break before either one of the children would get too tired and whiny to really enjoy the rest of the day.

After a cup of coffee, a hot dog and a bathroom visit, they made a quick trip to the Family Farm before they decided to make their way over to the regular park.

It was nearly half past one and as they went in through the west entrance, already four or five families had gathered at the picnic spot written in the invitation.

"See, Jennie?" Meredith said. "Shannon's here. Wanna go say hello?"

Derek remembered last year, when Jennie had been totally overwhelmed by the mere sight of so many people wheeling around in their chairs or by their walkers. She'd looked at Meredith, astonished, and then back at the children again.

"Ah-mmy," she'd said, with a smile on her face that was both huge and a little hesitant at the same time. "Like me."

Now, she nodded at Meredith's question, but tugged at her hand. Derek watched them both walk over to the table where Shannon and her father had started packing up their lunch. A few other girls had arrived as well, but they were a little older and had already sat down together, showing each other pictures on their phones. A younger man Derek recognized from last year nodded at him, hoisting his son on his hip. If Derek remembered correctly, the boy was two years younger than Jennie and hadn't began to walk on his own.

"Hi, Jennie," Shannon called when she saw them. "Guess what? My dad forgot to take the food out from the freezer so now we have to wait forever to eat it." She tilted her head a little, shoving her dark ringlets behind her ears. "Wanna go play over there in the meantime?"

Jennie nodded eagerly. "Mommy?" she asked.

"Just take it easy," Meredith said. "Hi, Shannon, nice to meet you again."

Derek smiled sympathetically at Shannon's father, who looked a little embarrassed. He was raising his daughter alone, and it wasn't hard to imagine that the strong-opinionated Shannon could be a handful.

"Hi there, Al," he greeted him. "How was your trip?"

"Not too bad," Al Roberts replied. "Except I had to endure Shannon's choice of music all way. Wasn't as much traffic as I had anticipated either, so we're earlier than I thought we'd be. Of course, with the food and everything, we could just as well still be on the roads."

Meredith made a grimace. "Could've happened to me," she said. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of food for everyone though. How's Shannon doing? We've been meaning to get in touch, but you know how time flies."

Al Roberts shrugged. "She's been doing ok this year. She's starting second grade this fall and overall, first grade was good for her. What about Jennie? She's younger than Shan, isn't she? Does she go to school yet?"

"She's still in kindergarten," Derek said. "They will keep her for another year. She's doing great though."

Jennie had made significant progress this last year, but just like her teachers, Meredith and Derek both felt that she would benefit from an extra year before she started first grade. Even though she spoke more clearly and more easily found her words compared to a couple of years ago, the gap between her and peers her own age was still there, and would certainly be noticed among her classmates. They wanted her to get the most tools she could get before starting in a regular classroom, something they were totally prepared for her to do even if she might need additional therapy and support for several years to come.

"And how about you?" Al asked Josie, who was still keeping close to Meredith, too timid to join some of the other children. "What grade are you in?"

"I'll start fourth," Josie whispered.

"Why don't we go look if there's someone you know?" Derek suggested. "I see Emma and Rebecca over there."

Josie looked like she wanted to protest, but sent Al a shy glance and merely shrugged and followed Derek when he got up. Meredith shook her head slightly and looked apologetically at Al.

"Hey," he said, holding up his hand. "Kids are different. Shannon's the right opposite from yours... she could go right up to anybody. Some days I don't know what's the better approach."

Just as Derek got back, finally having convinced Josie to stay for a while with the other girls, two or three other families arrived almost at the same time. Frances Kay carried her two-year old on her hip and ushered two slightly older girls before her, loudly announcing that she'd been fooled into buying a large party of blueberry pies.

"So no need for more desserts," she assured them. "We've got enough for everyone."

"Tell that to the poor mothers who had to drag their whole coolers out here," Deborah McCabe nodded. "They won't be happy."

The flyer that had arrived in Derek's inbox this spring had stated that all attending families were each to bring something to eat for everybody, and snacks, barbecue and desserts had been evenly distributed between the attendees.

"I guess we'll be stuck with those pies for weeks, then," Frances sighed, putting her shoulder bag down and shifting her son on her hip. "The girls are happy now, but they'll grow tired of it the day after tomorrow, trust me."

"Gee, I wish that someone got _me_ a large box of dessert pies," the third mother, Louise Scott, commented. Her daughter, Hannah, was about Josie's age and almost as shy. Last year, they'd tried to get the two of them to play together, but it had proved hard since neither of them had been taking any initiative. Derek wondered if today would be any different.

In just a few moments, the children had scattered somewhat, spreading out on the field to play with each other, or just to explore their surroundings. Derek felt strangely safe letting Jennie and Josie run around without constantly checking on them. Even if this was a public place, they had reserved the picnic area for this afternoon and the fact that he'd met these people only one time or less didn't make him doubt his trust in them.

"I'm so glad you're back," Louise told Meredith, sitting down next to them at the table they shared with Al. Her husband was crouched before Hannah, fixing something with her chair and talking quietly to her. "Did Jennie have a good time last year?"

"She had a blast," Meredith replied and smiled. "She's been talking about it ever since, and she was so excited to come here today that she made me change her outfit three times."

"Mom, the food," Louise's oldest son, Tom, reminded her. "Did everyone come yet?" he asked, looking around. Derek wasn't sure of his age, but thought he might be about 16 or 17.

"I think people will still be dropping in," Derek said. "But most of the kids are out there playing. What do you say we start up some game in a little bit?"

"Yeah, Tom, take Brian and get the younger kids together," Louise urged. "Hannah, go with your brothers."

Hannah shook her head, but her dad, Roger, took a grip of her wheelchair. "Let's go out there and see what they're doing," he said, turning Hannah's chair around. "I'll be back to help you with the food, ok?" he added to his wife, who nodded and waved at Hannah.

"Is Josie with you today?" she asked, watching as her husband wheeled Hannah towards the field.

"Yeah, she is," Derek confirmed. "I made her go out there but I have no idea what she's doing. I hope she and Hannah find each other this year."

"Hannah has a hard time finding friends," Louise commented. "She just won't go up to other children, and well, they kind of ignores her in school. I don't really know how to help her."

"We've had the same problem with Josie," Meredith told her. "It has gotten a lot better though. Now she has a couple of friends that she sticks to, but meeting new people always makes her uncomfortable."

To their joy, they'd seen Josie's friendship with Alice blossom. Derek thought it hard to find two more different girls, but somehow they seemed to balance each other out very well, and together with Alice, he'd seen Josie laugh and joke and live up like few times else. She played occasionally with two other girls in her class as well, even if Derek suspected that those were friendships that Alice originally had struck up.

Standing up, he left Meredith to tell Louise how they'd worked with Josie to help her succeed and strolled over to the shadow of the tree, where two of the other dads were standing talking to each other.

"Hey," one of them addressed him, a thin, tall man whose hairline was beginning to creep up and who Derek thought was named Peter. "You were here last year, right?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded. "Last year was our first. It's a good group."

"It is," Peter agreed. "Our Katie benefits a lot from these activities.

"It's a welcome break, meeting like this," James, a young man with shoulder-long brown hair and a tiny baby sleeping wrapped up in a kiddy carrier against his chest, said. "Everyone's pretty busy, with surgeries and therapies, and working to make sure the bills are paid. So this is nice."

"Did Eric have his hip surgery yet?" Peter asked.

"He did. The doctors were unsure of how much it would help him, but so far, we think he's been getting stronger and more mobile." James glanced over at the little spot only a few yards away, where the youngest children had been placed, sitting on blankets and babbling to each other. "It was a nuisance though, the surgery and the aftercare. Took a lot out of us."

"Katie did her third shunt replacement a couple of months ago," Peter told them. "No hip surgery so far, but they've been talking about scheduling something for her bowel in the near future."

"M-hm," James shook his head sympathetically. "Not looking forward to that one either. What about your daughter?" he said, turning to Derek. "How old is she again?"

"She's six," Derek replied and smiled. "She had to change her shunt a few years ago, but that's actually it so far."

He felt it strange to stand here and talk about surgeries so totally out of the medical and professional context he was used to. He wasn't sure these men knew he was a doctor, even less a neurosurgeon, and it was a little uncomfortable admitting to them that he was. This was a place for parents and patients to let out their frustrations on their medical care, compare treatments, and talk about it from their perspective. He suspected that it would create a tension among them if they knew he did surgeries like this for a living. He did, however, found it utterly rewarding listening to their conversation. It was a world doctors never had access to.

He stood by a little while longer, pitching comments when asked directly, but actively avoiding taking a greater part in the conversation. Just as James and Peter were laying out the pros and cons for different braces – a discussion he actually could take part in since it didn't really have to do with his profession – someone pulled his hand from behind. He turned around and found Jennie standing there, a bit of mud caked onto the leg of her left sneaker. She'd gotten out of the wheelchair but didn't seem to wobble much, like she sometimes would do if she'd been walking a long time unassisted.

"Hey," he said, reaching forward to remove a small twig stuck in her hair. "Are you having fun?"

"Yeah," she breathed, but had already shifted her attention to the men beside him. "Hi," she said after a brief consideration, looking at James.

"Hi there," he nodded.

"Has your ey-bee a wheelchair too?"

James smiled a little. "No, the baby hasn't. But my other son does. Did you meet Eric?"

"Is in a wheelchair?" she questioned, gesturing loosely to the field. Derek followed her fingers and saw that most of the children had gathered. There was no way he could tell which one was Eric; there were several little boys, some of them wheeling around and some of them leaning on a walker while waiting for Tom to instruct them.

"Can he walk?" Jennie wanted to know.

They'd talked to both her and Josie before this day, wanting them to know a little of what to expect. Even within the same diagnosis, things looked quite different from child to child, and what Jennie and Josie knew wouldn't necessarily match the situations that these children here were living in. So they'd told them that some children would walk and others would use their wheelchairs, and that some would have crutches or walkers.

"No, he doesn't walk," James replied. "He needs his wheelchair to get around."

"I haf wheelchair too," Jennie nodded. "And I walk too."

"Hey, Jennie." Derek placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her a little towards him. "What are you doing out there?"

"We pway pag!" Jennie exclaimed.

"What do... Ah, you play tag. Well, are you the tagger?"

"No, no," Jennie shook her head, and then bit her lip when she remembered why she'd come in the first place. "Daddy, where Mommy?"

"I think she's over there, talking to the other mommies," Derek said. "Do you need her?"

"Yeah, I need my mommy."

"Come on, I'll take you." Derek nodded apologetically at James and Peter and grabbed Jennie's hand as they walked past the grill, where most people had put their coolers and bags. "What do you need Mommy for?"

She hesitated, then looked down on the ground. "I got wet," she told him finally, so quietly that he had to strain his ears. He stopped and crouched down before her to inspect her clothing. She was right; her shorts did have a darkened stain down its right leg. It could have been a simple water spill, but he suspected she wouldn't be embarrassed like this if it was.

"Did you feel it, Bug?" he asked, astonished. They tried to work with her to take regular breaks, but even though she had become quite good at reminding them herself when they were on their daily routine, interesting things like games had a way of making her forget it. He'd never heard her say that she felt the need of going. If she really had felt herself going wet this time, it was a huge step.

She shook her head, though. "Oh-sie telled me."

"Ok," Derek said. "That's ok, Jen. You want me to take you to change?"

"I want Mommy."

"Ok, then," Derek said, trying to pretend he didn't care that she so obviously chose Meredith over him. It was probably just as it should be. She was getting older and lately they'd both observed that she preferred Meredith in some situations. It was still somewhat ok that he helped her dress at home, but for showering and to some extent also the bathroom visits, she usually wanted Meredith, especially when they were out somewhere.

Meredith was still sitting down at one of the larger tables in the middle of the area, now accompained not only by Louise but also by a couple of other women that Derek didn't think he'd met last year. She was smiling politely and nodding at the other women's chattering, but didn't seem to do a lot of input herself.

"Meredith," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and catching her eye. "Jennie needs you."

"What happened?" Meredith asked. She stood up, pulling down her top that had eased up a little and looked questioningly at Derek.

"Just a little accident. We've got a change of clothes, right?"

She nodded. "It's in the large bag. She wants me to do it?"

"Yeah."

She smiled at him and quickly stroked his arm as if she knew he did feel a little overseen, despite his best intentions. She slung the bag over her shoulder and sat down in front of Jennie, who had let go of Derek's hand before they reached the table and was standing a little bit aside, still not looking at anyone.

"Hey," Meredith said gently. "What do you say you and I go to the bathroom real quick? Then you can go back to playing."

"Mommy, you don't tell," Jennie mumbled.

"I won't tell," Meredith promised. "But accidents happen, sweetie. I bet it did happen to almost all of the others here one time or another."

"I want my chair," Jennie said without commenting.

"You're tired?" Meredith asked.

"I not show."

Derek watched as Meredith helped Jennie into her chair and pushed her over the grass onto the walkway where Jennie could wheel herself. He hoped Meredith would manage to cheer her up so that she could enjoy the rest of the day without feeling bad about what happened.

"Oh, Derek," Louise called from the table, waving him over and motioning for him to take Meredith's seat. "I just remembered, I have some photos from last year still on my cell."

She reached down for the red bag that stood leaned against the table leg and rummaged through it until she came back up with an iPhone in a blue leathercase. She turned on the screen and scrolled through her pictures until she found the right one and held it out for Derek to see. They'd been sent some pictures though the website after last year's picnic, and they'd taken some of their own as well, but he'd never seen these. Jennie grinned at him from the photo, sitting at his shoulders and holding on to the sides of her head. Josie stood next to him, her right hand on Jennie's foot and her other one showing a victory sign. She was looking slightly upwards at Jennie and without any of the reservation her smiles usually held.

"There's more," Louise told him. "Just browse them."

The following picture showed Jennie and Josie in front of the fire they'd lit when the day crept over in night and the sun started to set. Josie sat with her back against a large tree and Jennie sat in the gap between her wide-stretched legs, leaning against her. The light from the fire made the shadows dance in their faces, both looking a little sleepy after a full day with new people and exciting activities. He browsed through the rest of them; they were surprisingly good and really mirroring the happiness of that day.

"Very good ones," he said honestly. "We didn't take any like those." He returned the phone to Louise and smiled at her. "You're a photographer?"

"Oh, no," she said, laughing a little. "Only have years of practice taking our kids pictures. Especially with Hannah." She shrugged. "You'd think with the third child it would kinda feel a little old, taking pictures of all those first times. Only it isn't with Hannah, you know?"

Derek knew what she meant. Josie's firsts had also been their firsts; whatever she did, Meredith and him wouldn't have experienced it with another child before. It was times to be captured and remembered. A second child's firsts, though unique in their own, would probably not have that same glory. With Jennie, however, they'd learned not to expect things to happen by a certain schedule, if at all. And when they did happen, the joy was another, even if Derek couldn't quite pinpoint the difference. Some of her firsts were different, too; learning to steer her wheelchair, her first sign, figuring out how to catheterize. Sometimes Derek felt these victories bigger than anything Josie would ever learn. Sometimes he merely thought of them as bittersweet.

_A/N - So, now we've seen some animal interaction (I mean, who wouldn't want a monkey for a pet?) and some human interactions with new people as well. This was the most natural breaking point, so the chapter will just pick up again in the next part. _


End file.
